UN STUDIA EN SCARLATA
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4. What John Rance Had to Tell
Lo ia es la ora des-tre cuando nos ia parti de Numero 3 de Jardines Lauriston. Sherlock Holmes ia gida me a la telegraferia la plu prosima, de do el ia envia un telegram longa. A pos, el ia jesti per un taxi e ia comanda ce la gidor porta nos a la adirije donada a nos par Lestrade.
It was one o’clock when we left No. 3, Lauriston Gardens. Sherlock Holmes led me to the nearest telegraph-office, whence he dispatched a long telegram. He then hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take us to the address given us by Lestrade.
“La informa la plu bon veni de la atestor mesma,” el ia comenta; “en fato, mea mente es intera desideda sur la caso, ma ta ce nos aprende tota cual es aprendable, an tal.”
“There is nothing like first-hand evidence,” he remarked; “as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely made up upon the case, but still we may as well learn all that is to be learned.”
“Tu stona me, Holmes,” me ia dise. “Sin duta, tu no es tan serta como tu finje sur tota acel detalias cual tu ia presenta.”
“You amaze me, Holmes,” said I. “Surely you are not as sure as you pretend to be of all those particulars which you gave.”
“On ave no posible de un era,” el ia responde. “La cosa an prima cual me ia oserva pos ariva ala ia es ce un taxi ia crea du fosetas par sua rotas, prosima a la troteria. Ma, asta la note pasada, nos ia ave no pluve en un semana, donce acel rotas cual ia lasa un impresa tan profonda ia debe sta ala en la note. On ave ance la marcas de la ungulas de la cavalo, de cual la contorno de un ia es multe plu clar definida ca lo de la otra tre, mostrante ce acel ia es un fero nova. Car la taxi ia es ala pos la comensa de la pluve, e no ia es ala a cualce tempo en la matina — me ave la informa de Gregson sur acel — lo debe segue ce lo ia es ala en la note e, donce, ce lo ia trae acel du individuas a la casa.”
“There’s no room for a mistake,” he answered. “The very first thing which I observed on arriving there was that a cab had made two ruts with its wheels close to the curb. Now, up to last night, we have had no rain for a week, so that those wheels which left such a deep impression must have been there during the night. There were the marks of the horse’s hoofs, too, the outline of one of which was far more clearly cut than that of the other three, showing that that was a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the rain began, and was not there at any time during the morning — I have Gregson’s word for that — it follows that it must have been there during the night, and, therefore, that it brought those two individuals to the house.”
“Acel pare sufisinte simple,” me ia dise; “ma como tu sabe la altia de la otra om?”
“That seems simple enough,” said I; “but how about the other man’s height?”
“Vera, la altia de un om, en nove casos de des, pote es trovada de la longia de sua pasos. La calcula es bastante fasil, ma me vide no valua en noia tu par numeros. Me ia ave la pasos de esta xico e sur la arjila esterna e sur la polvo interna. Alora me ia ave un modo de confirma mea calcula. Cuando un om scrive sur un mur, sua instinto gida el a scrive a sirca la nivel de sua propre oios. E acel scrive ia es a pico plu ca ses pedes de la solo. Un cosa enfantin fasil.”
“Why, the height of a man, in nine cases out of ten, can be told from the length of his stride. It is a simple calculation enough, though there is no use my boring you with figures. I had this fellow’s stride both on the clay outside and on the dust within. Then I had a way of checking my calculation. When a man writes on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about the level of his own eyes. Now that writing was just over six feet from the ground. It was child’s play.”
“E sua eda?” me ia demanda.
“And his age?” I asked.
“Bon, si un om pote fa un paso de cuatro pedes e un dui sin an un pico de difisilia, el es clar no ja en sua senese. Acel ia es la largia de un stangeta sur la rueta de jardin cual el ia traversa en modo evidente. Botas Vernisida ia vade a sirca e Frontes Reta ia traversa par brinca. La cosa conteni tota no misterio. Me aplica mera a la vive comun alga de acel prinsipes de oserva e dedui cual me ia promove en acel article. Esce cualce otra cosa confonde tu?”
“Well, if a man can stride four and a half feet without the smallest effort, he can’t be quite in the sere and yellow. That was the breadth of a puddle on the garden walk which he had evidently walked across. Patent-leather boots had gone round and Square-toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those precepts of observation and deduction which I advocated in that article. Is there anything else that puzzles you?”
“La ungias de dito e la sigar de Tiruchirappalli,” me ia sujesta.
“The fingernails and the Trichinopoly,” I suggested.
“La scrive sur la mur ia es fada par la dito xef de un om, poneda en sangue. Mea lupa ia permete me a oserva ce la jeso ia es pico rascada par la ata, e esta no ia ta es la situa si la ungia de la om ia ta es cortida. Me ia colie alga sene sperdeda de la solo. Lo ia ave un color oscur e ia es flocosa — un spesie de sene cual sola un sigar de Tiruchirappalli produi. Me ia fa un studia spesial de senes de sigar — en fato, me ia scrive un monografia a la tema. Me senti la orgulo de pote distingui par un regardeta la sene de cualce marca conoseda o de sigar o de tabaco. Lo es en esata tal detalias ce un detetor capas difere de la tipo de Gregson e Lestrade.”
“The writing on the wall was done with a man’s forefinger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which would not have been the case if the man’s nail had been trimmed. I gathered up some scattered ash from the floor. It was dark in colour and flakey — such an ash as is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have made a special study of cigar ashes — in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand either of cigar or of tobacco. It is just in such details that the skilled detective differs from the Gregson and Lestrade type.”
“E la fas roja?” me ia demanda.
“And the florid face?” I asked.
“A! Acel ia es un xuta plu osante, an si me ave no duta ce me ia es coreta. Tu debe no demanda esta de me en la state presente de la caso.”
“Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have no doubt that I was right. You must not ask me that at the present state of the affair.”
Me ia pasa mea mano longo mea fronte. “Mea testa jira,” me comenta; “plu on considera lo, plu misteriosa lo deveni. Como esta du omes — si on ia ave du omes — ia veni a un casa vacua? Cual ia aveni a la du taxistes ci ia gida los? Como un om ia pote obliga un otra a engoli venena? De do la sangue ia veni? Cual ia es la intende de la omisidor, car fura no ia parteni a lo? Como la anelo de la fem ia veni ala? Ante tota, perce la om du ia scrive la parola RACHE ante parti? Me confesa ce me pote vide no modo posible de reconsilia tota esta fatos.”
I passed my hand over my brow. “My head is in a whirl,” I remarked; “the more one thinks of it the more mysterious it grows. How came these two men — if there were two men — into an empty house? What has become of the cabman who drove them? How could one man compel another to take poison? Where did the blood come from? What was the object of the murderer since robbery had no part in it? How came the woman’s ring there? Above all, why should the second man write up the word RACHE before decamping? I confess that I cannot see any possible way of reconciling all these facts.”
Mea acompanior ia surie aprobante.
My companion smiled approvingly.
“Tu resoma consisa e bon la disifiles de la situa,” el ia dise. “On ave multe cual es ancora oscur, ma me ia deside completa sur la fatos xef. En pertine a la descovre par la povre Lestrade, lo ia es simple un engana intendeda per turna la polisia a un trasa falsa, par sujesta sosialisme e sosias secreta. Lo no ia es fada par un deutx. La A, si tu ia vide, ia es scriveda a alga grado en la modo deutx. Ma un deutx autentica scrive sempre en la stilo latina, donce nos pote dise secur ce esta no ia es scriveda par un tal, ma par un imitor torpe ci ia esajera sua rol. Lo ia es simple un rus per diverje la investiga a un curso noncoreta. Me no va revela multe plu sur la caso a tu, dotor. Tu sabe ce un majiste reseta no onora pos cuando el ia esplica sua truco; e si me mostra a tu tro multe de mea metodo de labora, tu va veni a la conclui ce me es ultima un individua multe comun.”
“You sum up the difficulties of the situation succinctly and well,” he said. “There is much that is still obscure, though I have quite made up my mind on the main facts. As to poor Lestrade’s discovery, it was simply a blind intended to put the police upon a wrong track, by suggesting Socialism and secret societies. It was not done by a German. The A, if you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now, a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator who overdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert enquiry into a wrong channel. I’m not going to tell you much more of the case, doctor. You know a conjuror gets no credit when once he has explained his trick; and if I show you too much of my method of working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ordinary individual after all.”
“Me va fa nunca acel,” me ia responde; “tu ia fa ce detetoria sembla tan prosima un siensa esata como lo va sembla a cualce tempo en esta mundo.”
“I shall never do that,” I answered; “you have brought detection as near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world.”
Mea acompanior ia roji con plaser a mea parolas, e la modo seria en cual me ia vosi los. Me ia oserva ja ce el es tan reatosa a adulas de sua arte como cualce xica ta pote es a los de sua belia.
My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words, and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girl could be on that of her beauty.
“Me va informa tu sur un plu cosa,” el ia dise. “Botas Vernisida e Frontes Reta ia veni en la mesma taxi, e los ia pasea longo la rueta en junta tan amin como posible — con braso en braso, la plu probable. Pos cuando los ia entra, los ia pasea de asi a ala en la sala — o plu bon, Botas Vernisida ia sta sin move en cuando Frontes Reta ia pasea de asi a ala. Me ia pote leje tota de esta en la polvo; e me ia pote leje ce en cuando el ia pasea, el ia deveni plu e plu stimulada. Esta es mostrada par la longia aumentada de sua pasos. El ia parla tra la tempo intera, e ia emosia se asta un furia, sin duta. Alora la trajedia ia aveni. Me ia dise aora a tu tota cual me mesma sabe, car la resta es mera suposas e divinas. Nos ave, an tal, un funda bon sufisinte de do nos pote comensa. Nos debe rapidi, car me vole vade a la conserta de Hallé per oia Norman-Neruda a esta posmedia.”
“I’ll tell you one other thing,” he said. “Patent-leathers and Square-toes came in the same cab, and they walked down the pathway together as friendly as possible — arm-in-arm, in all probability. When they got inside, they walked up and down the room — or rather, Patent-leathers stood still while Square-toes walked up and down. I could read all that in the dust; and I could read that as he walked he grew more and more excited. That is shown by the increased length of his strides. He was talking all the while, and working himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then the tragedy occurred. I’ve told you all I know myself now, for the rest is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good working basis, however, on which to start. We must hurry up, for I want to go to Hallé’s concert to hear Norman-Neruda this afternoon.”
Esta conversa ia aveni en cuando nosa taxi ia viaja vagante tra un serie longa de stradas sombre e ruas blanda. En la plu sombre e blanda de tota de los, nosa gidor ia fa un para subita. “Acel es Bloco Audley a ultra,” el ia dise, indicante un ranur streta en la linia de brice de color mor. “Tu va trova me asi cuando tu reveni.”
This conversation had occurred while our cab had been threading its way through a long succession of dingy streets and dreary byways. In the dingiest and dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a stand. “That’s Audley Court in there,” he said, pointing to a narrow slit in the line of dead-coloured brick. “You’ll find me here when you come back.”
Bloco Audley no ia es un visineria atraente. La pasaje streta ia gida nos a un cuatroangulo paveda con petras plata e foreda con abiterias mugrosa. Nos ia pasea con lentia cauta entre grupos de enfantes susia, e tra linias de telas descolorida, asta cuando nos ia veni a Numero 46, de cual sua porte ia es decorada con un banda peti de laton sur cual la nom Rance ia es gravada. Pos demanda, nos ia trova ce la polisior es en leto, e on ia gida nos a un salon fronte peti per espeta sua ariva.
Audley Court was not an attractive locality. The narrow passage led us into a quadrangle paved with flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children, and through lines of discoloured linen, until we came to Number 46, the door of which was decorated with a small slip of brass on which the name Rance was engraved. On enquiry we found that the constable was in bed, and we were shown into a little front parlour to await his coming.
El ia apare pos un tempo, con aspeta pico iritable par causa de es disturbada en sua dormi. “Me ia fa mea reporta a la ofisia,” el ia dise.
He appeared presently, looking a little irritable at being disturbed in his slumbers. “I made my report at the office,” he said.
Holmes ia prende un duipaund de sua pox e ia jueta pensosa con lo. “Nos ia pensa ce nos ta vole oia la cosa intera de tua propre labios,” el ia dise.
Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket and played with it pensively. “We thought that we should like to hear it all from your own lips,” he said.
“Me va es multe felis de dona cualce informa posible a vos,” la polisior ia responde, con sua oios regardante la disco peti de oro.
“I shall be most happy to tell you anything I can,” the constable answered, with his eyes upon the little golden disc.
“Ta ce nos oia mera la cosa en tua propre manera, como lo ia aveni.”
“Just let us hear it all in your own way as it occurred.”
Rance ia senta se sur la sofa de crinera, e ia plieta sua fronte como si determinada a omete no cosa de sua raconta.
Rance sat down on the horsehair sofa, and knitted his brows as though determined not to omit anything from his narrative.
“Me va nara lo a vos de la comensa,” el ia dise. “Me labora de la ora dudes-du asta la ora ses de matina. A dudes-tre, un combate ia aveni en la taverna Servo Blanca; ma estra acel, tota ia es bon cuieta en la patrulia. A la ora un, lo ia comensa pluve, e me ia encontra Harry Murcher — el ci patrulia Bosce Holland — e nos ia sta en junta a la canto de Strada Henrietta, parlante. Pos un tempo — cisa a la ora du o pico plu tarda — me ia deside vade per regarda per vide ce tota es bon en la Via Brixton. Lo ia es enfernin susia e solitar. Me ia encontra an no un person longo la via intera, an si un o du taxis ia pasa me. Me ia es paseante a longo, pensante, me confida, cuanto me ta bonveni cuatro sentimes de jin calda, cuando subita la sintili de un lus en la fenetra de acel mesma casa ia atrae mea oio. Bon, me ia sabe ce acel du casas en Jardines Lauriston es vacua par causa ce el ci posese los no vole permete un repara de la cloacas, an si la luor mesma ci ia abita la plu resente un de los ia mori de tifoide. Me ia bambola en surprende, alora, a vide un lus en la fenetra, e me ia suspeta ce alga malcondui aveni. Cuando me ia ariva a la porte —”
“I’ll tell it ye from the beginning,” he said. “My time is from ten at night to six in the morning. At eleven there was a fight at the White Hart; but bar that all was quiet enough on the beat. At one o’clock it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher — him who has the Holland Grove beat — and we stood together at the corner of Henrietta Street a-talkin’. Presently — maybe about two or a little after — I thought I would take a look round and see that all was right down the Brixton Road. It was precious dirty and lonely. Not a soul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or two went past me. I was a strollin’ down, thinkin’ between ourselves how uncommon handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly the glint of a light caught me eye in the window of that same house. Now, I knew that them two houses in Lauriston Gardens was empty on account of him that owns them who won’t have the drains seed to, though the very last tenant what lived in one of them died o’ typhoid fever. I was knocked all in a heap, therefore, at seeing a light in the window, and I suspected as something was wrong. When I got to the door —”
“Tu ia para, e alora ia revade a la porteta de jardin,” mea acompanior ia interompe. “Perce tu ia fa esta?”
“You stopped, and then walked back to the garden gate,” my companion interrupted. “What did you do that for?”
Rance ia fa un salteta intensa, e ia fisa sua regarda a Sherlock Holmes con stona la plu estrema en sua fas.
Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock Holmes with the utmost amazement upon his features.
“Ma acel es vera, senior,” el ia dise; “ma como tu es capas de sabe lo, sola la sielo sabe. Vide, cuando me ia ariva a la porte, lo ia es tan cuieta e tan solitar ce me ia pensa ce mea situa ta deveni alga plu bon si me ta ave un otra person con me. Me no teme cualce cosa a esta lado de la tomba; ma me ia pensa ce cisa el ci ia mori de tifoide esamina la cloacas cual ia mata el. La pensa ia dona a me un xoca de alga spesie, e me ia revade a la porteta per vide esce me pote vide la lampa de Murcher, ma on ia ave no indica de el o de cualce otra person.”
“Why, that’s true, sir,” he said; “though how you come to know it, heaven only knows. Ye see when I got up to the door, it was so still and so lonesome, that I thought I’d be none the worse for someone with me. I ain’t afeard of anything on this side o’ the grave; but I thought that maybe it was him that died o’ the typhoid inspecting the drains what killed him. The thought gave me a kind o’ turn, and I walked back to the gate to see if I could see Murcher’s lantern, but there wasn’t no sign of him nor of anyone else.”
“Nun ia es en la strada?”
“There was no one in the street?”
“Asoluta nun, senior, an no un can. Alora me ia recovre mea calmia e ia revade e ia puia la porte per abri lo. Tota ia es cuieta a interna, donce me ia entra a la sala do la lus ia es ardente. On ia ave un candela dansante sur la scafal de ximine — un roja de sira — e par sua lus, me ia vide —”
“Not a livin’ soul, sir, nor as much as a dog. Then I pulled myself together and went back and pushed the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the room where the light was a-burnin’. There was a candle flickerin’ on the mantelpiece — a red wax one — and by its light I saw —”
“Si, me sabe tota cual tu ia vide. Tu ia pasea sirca la sala a plu ca un ves e tu ia ajena a lado de la corpo, e a pos, tu ia traversa e ia proba la porte de la cosina, e a pos —”
“Yes, I know all that you saw. You walked round the room several times and you knelt down by the body, and then you walked through and tried the kitchen door, and then —”
John Rance ia salta a sur sua pedes con fas asustada e suspeta en sua oios. “Do tu ia asconde tu per vide tota de acel?” el ia esclama. “Lo pare a me ce tu sabe un monton plu ca tu ta debe.”
John Rance sprang to his feet with a frightened face and suspicion in his eyes. “Where was you hid to see all that?” he cried. “It seems to me that you knows a deal more than you should.”
Holmes ia rie e ia lansa sua carta supra la table a la polisior. “No aresta me per la omiside,” el ia dise. “Me es un de la canes xasante e no la lupo; Sr Gregson o Sr Lestrade va confirma acel. Ma continua. Cual tu ia fa a pos?”
Holmes laughed and threw his card across the table to the constable. “Don’t get arresting me for the murder,” he said. “I am one of the hounds and not the wolf; Mr Gregson or Mr Lestrade will answer for that. Go on, though. What did you do next?”
Rance ia reocupa sua seja, sin perde sua espresa confondeda, an tal. “Me ia revade a la porteta e ia sona mea sibileta. Acel ia veni Murcher e du otras a la loca.”
Rance resumed his seat, without, however, losing his mystified expression. “I went back to the gate and sounded my whistle. That brought Murcher and two more to the spot.”
“Esce la strada ia es vacua alora?”
“Was the street empty then?”
“Si, vacua, a la min en pertine a cualcun ci ta pote condui bon.”
“Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of any good goes.”
“Como tu vole dise?”
“What do you mean?”
La espresa de la polisior ia largi a un surion. “Me ia vide ja multe omes enebriada en mea vive,” el ia dise, “ma nunca cualcun tan lamentable enebriada como acel xico. El ia es a la porteta cuando me ia sorti, apoiante se contra la reles, e cantante a vose masima sur Colombina e sua bandera de selas, o alga cosa simil. El no ia es capas de sta, an min de aida.”
The constable’s features broadened into a grin. “I’ve seen many a drunk chap in my time,” he said, “but never anyone so cryin’ drunk as that cove. He was at the gate when I came out, a-leanin’ up ag’in the railings, and a-singin’ at the pitch o’ his lungs about Columbine’s New-fangled Banner, or some such stuff. He couldn’t stand, far less help.”
“El ia es un om de cual spesie?” Sherlock Homes ia demanda.
“What sort of a man was he?” asked Sherlock Holmes.
John Rance ia pare es alga iritada a esta diverje. “El ia es un om de spesie noncomun enebriada,” el ia dise. “El ia ta trova se en la polisieria si nos no ia ta es tan ocupada.”
John Rance appeared to be somewhat irritated at this digression. “He was an uncommon drunk sort o’ man,” he said. “He’d ha’ found hisself in the station if we hadn’t been so took up.”
“Sua fas — sua vestes — tu no ia nota los?” Holmes ia interompe nonpasiente.
“His face — his dress — didn’t you notice them?” Holmes broke in impatiently.
“Me sabe serta ce me ia nota los, par causa ce me ia debe suporta el — me e Murcher en junta. El ia es un xico alta con fas roja, con xarpe sirca la parte basa —”
“I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had to prop him up — me and Murcher between us. He was a long chap with a red face, the lower part muffled round —”
“Acel sufisi,” Holmes ia esclama. “Cual ia aveni a el?”
“That will do,” cried Holmes. “What became of him?”
“Nos ia ave ja taxes sufisinte sin atende el,” la polisior ia dise, en vose disputosa. “Me aposta ce el ia trova bon sua via a casa.”
“We’d enough to do without lookin’ after him,” the policeman said, in an aggrieved voice. “I’ll wager he found his way home all right.”
“Como el ia es vestida?”
“How was he dressed?”
“Un jacon brun.”
“A brown overcoat.”
“Esce el ia ave un flajelo en sua mano?”
“Had he a whip in his hand?”
“Un flajelo — no.”
“A whip — no.”
“El ia parti sin lo, sin duta,” mea acompanior ia farfulia. “Lo no ia aveni ce tu ia vide o ia oia un taxi pos acel?”
“He must have left it behind,” muttered my companion. “You didn’t happen to see or hear a cab after that?”
“Esta duipaund es per tu,” mea acompanior ia dise, stante se e prendente sua xapo. “Me regrete, Rance, ce tu va avansa nunca en la polisia. Tua testa debe servi per usa, no sola per orna. Tu ia ta pote gania tua insinia de sarjento a la note pasada. La om ci tu ia teni en tua manos es la om ci teni la solve de esta misterio, e ci nos xerca. On ave no valua en disputa aora lo; me dise a tu ce lo es tal. Veni, dotor.”
“There’s a half-sovereign for you,” my companion said, standing up and taking his hat. “I am afraid, Rance, that you will never rise in the force. That head of yours should be for use as well as ornament. You might have gained your sergeant’s stripes last night. The man whom you held in your hands is the man who holds the clue of this mystery, and whom we are seeking. There is no use arguing about it now; I tell you that it is so. Come along, doctor.”
Nos ia parti en junta per la taxi, lasante nosa informor en state noncredente, ma evidente noncomfortosa.
We started off for the cab together, leaving our informant incredulous, but obviously uncomfortable.
“La fol erosa!” Holmes ia dise, amarga, en nosa reviaja a nosa abiteria. “Ai! El ia reseta un fortuna tan noncomparable bon, e no ia esplota lo.”
“The blundering fool!” Holmes said, bitterly, as we drove back to our lodgings. “Just to think of his having such an incomparable bit of good luck, and not taking advantage of it.”
“Mea comprende es ancora alga nonclar. Lo es vera ce la descrive de esta om acorda con tua idea de la person du en esta misterio. Ma perce el ia reveni a la casa pos parti de lo? Acel no es la manera de criminores.”
“I am rather in the dark still. It is true that the description of this man tallies with your idea of the second party in this mystery. But why should he come back to the house after leaving it? That is not the way of criminals.”
“La anelo, ami, la anelo: el ia reveni per acel. Si nos ave no otra modo de catura el, nos pote sempre usa la anelo per tenta el a nosa onca. Me va trova el, dotor — me aposta du contra un ce me va trova el. Me debe grasia tu per tota. Sin tu, cisa me no ia ta vade, e alora ia ta perde la studia la plu bela en tota mea esperia: un studia en scarlata, si? Ta ce nos usa un pico de jergo de arte, no? On ave la filo scarlata de omiside fluente tra la rede gris de la vive, e nosa debe es desmarania lo, e isoli lo, e esposa cada peso de lo. E aora, ta ce nos come, con Norman-Neruda a pos. Sua atacas e sua usa de arco es merveliosa. Cual es acel cosa peti par Chopin cual el jua tan briliante? Tra-la-la-lira-lira-le.”
“The ring, man, the ring: that was what he came back for. If we have no other way of catching him, we can always bait our line with the ring. I shall have him, doctor — I’ll lay you two to one that I have him. I must thank you for it all. I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn’t we use a little art jargon. There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch, and then for Norman-Neruda. Her attack and her bowing are splendid. What’s that little thing of Chopin’s she plays so magnificently: Tra-la-la-lira-lira-lay.”
Apoiante sua dorso en la taxi, esta can xasante de amato ia fa la canta felis de un aloda en cuando me ia medita sur la multiladalia de la mente umana.
Leaning back in the cab, this amateur bloodhound carolled away like a lark while I meditated upon the manysidedness of the human mind.