夏罗特富尔莫斯(2)
ILLUSTRATIONS“THE GENTLEMAN IN THE PEW HANDED IT UP TO HER”“A MAN ENTERED”Facing p.8“THE DOOR WAS SHUT AND LOCKED”″40“ALL AFTERNOON HE SAT IN THE STALLS”″46“SHERLOCK HOLMES WELCOMED HER”″60“GLANCING ABOUT HIM LIKE A RAT IN A TRAP”″72“THEY FOUND THE BODY”″80“THE MAID SHOWED US THE BOOTS”″92“‘HOLMES,’ I CRIED, ‘YOU ARE TOO LATE’”″122“AT THE FOOT OF THE STAIRS SHE MET THIS LASCAR SCOUNDREL”″134“‘HAVE MERCY!’ HE SHRIEKED”″172“‘GOOD-BYE, AND BE BRAVE’”″196“‘NOT A WORD TO A SOUL’”″214“‘I WILL WISH YOU ALL A VERY GOOD NIGHT’”″250“I CLappED A PISTOL TO HIS HEAD”″278“‘I AM SO DELIGHTED THAT YOU HAVE COME’”″292
ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Adventure I
A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIAITO Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise, but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen; but, as a lover, he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Adventure I
A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIAITO Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise, but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen; but, as a lover, he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
碧蓝航线催眠贝尔法斯特
