"Doyle, Arthur Conan - The Adventure Of The Dying Detective" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Arthur Conan)

of a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my
duty to so old a friend?"

Again I advanced, but he repulsed me with a look of furious
anger.

"If you will stand there I will talk. If you do not you must
leave the room."

I have so deep a respect for the extraordinary qualities of
Holmes that I have always deferred to his wishes, even when I
least understood them. But now all my professional instincts
were aroused. Let him be my master elsewhere, I at least was his
in a sick room.

"Holmes," said I, "you are not yourself. A sick man is but a
child, and so I will treat you. Whether you like it or not, I
will examine your symptoms and treat you for them."

He looked at me with venomous eyes.

"If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least
have someone in whom I have confidence," said he.

"Then you have none in me?"

"In your friendship, certainly. But facts are facts, Watson,
and, after all, you are only a general practitioner with very
limited experience and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to
have to say these things, but you leave me no choice."

I was bitterly hurt.

"Such a remark is unworthy of you, Holmes. It shows me very
clearly the state of your own nerves. But if you have no
confidence in me I would not intrude my services. Let me bring
Sir Jasper Meek or Penrose Fisher, or any of the best men in
London. But someone you MUST have, and that is final. If you
think that I am going to stand here and see you die without
either helping you myself or bringing anyone else to help you,
then you have mistaken your man."

"You mean well, Watson," said the sick man with something between
a sob and a groan. "Shall I demonstrate your own ignorance?
What do you know, pray, of Tapanuli fever? What do you know of
the black Formosa corruption?"

"I have never heard of either."

"There are many problems of disease, many strange pathological