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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
A Scandal in Bohemia
Capítulo 1, Página 1
To
Sherlock
Holmes,
she
was
always
the
woman.
I
rarely
heard
him
call
her
by
any
other
name.
In
his
eyes,
she
outshone
and
dominated
all
women.
It
wasn't
because
he
felt
any
love
for
Irene
Adler.
All
emotions,
especially
love,
were
unpleasant
to
his
cold,
precise,
but
perfectly
balanced
mind.
I
think
he
was
the
best
reasoning
and
observing
machine
the
world
has
seen,
but
as
a
lover,
he
would
have
been
in
a
wrong
position.
He
never
spoke
of
softer
feelings,
except
with
a
joke
or
a
sneer.
They
were
useful
for
understanding
people’s
motives
and
actions.
But
for
a
trained
thinker
like
him,
allowing
such
feelings
would
disturb
his
clear
thinking.
Strong
emotions
would
be
like
grit
in
a
sensitive
instrument
or
a
crack
in
one
of
his
high-power
lenses.
Yet,
there
was
only
one
woman
for
him,
and
that
was
the
late
Irene
Adler,
of
uncertain
and
questionable
memory.
I
had
not
seen
much
of
Holmes
lately.
My
marriage
had
taken
us
apart.
My
happiness
and
the
new
responsibilities
of
my
own
home
took
all
my
attention.
Holmes,
who
hated
all
forms
of
society,
stayed
in
our
rooms
on
Baker
Street.
He
was
buried
in
his
books,
switching
between
the
calm
of
the
drug
and
the
energy
of
his
nature.
He
was
still
drawn
to
solving
crimes,
using
his
great
skills
to
solve
cases
the
police
had
given
up
on.
Sometimes
I
heard
about
his
activities:
his
trip
to
Odessa
for
the
Trepoff
murder,
solving
the
Atkinson
brothers’
tragedy
in
Trincomalee,
and
his
successful
mission
for
the
royal
family
of
Holland.
Beyond
these
stories,
which
everyone
read
in
the
newspapers,
I
knew
little
of
my
old
friend.
One
night,
on
the
twentieth
of
March,
1888,
I
was
returning
from
visiting
a
patient.
My
way
took
me
through
Baker
Street.
As
I
passed
the
familiar
door,
I
felt
a
strong
desire
to
see
Holmes
again
and
find
out
how
he
was
using
his
amazing
skills.
His
rooms
were
brightly
lit,
and
I
saw
his
tall,
thin
figure
pass
twice
in
shadow
against
the
window.
He
was
walking
quickly,
with
his
head
down
and
hands
behind
his
back.
I
knew
his
every
habit,
and
his
manner
told
me
he
was
working
again.
He
had
left
his
drug
dreams
and
was
chasing
a
new
problem.
I
rang
the
bell
and
was
shown
up
to
the
room
that
had
once
been
partly
mine.
His
manner
was
not
overly
warm.
It
rarely
was,
but
I
think
he
was
glad
to
see
me.
Without
many
words,
but
with
a
kind
look,
he
waved
me
to
an
armchair,
offered
me
cigars,
and
pointed
to
a
spirit
case
and
a
gasogene
in
the
corner.
Then
he
stood
by
the
fire
and
looked
at
me
in
his
usual
thoughtful
way.
"Marriage
suits
you,"
he
said.
"I
think,
Watson,
you
have
gained
seven
and
a
half
pounds
since
I
last
saw
you."
"Seven!"
I
replied.
"Indeed,
I
thought
it
might
be
a
bit
more.
Just
a
little
more,
Watson.
And
you
are
practicing
again,
I
see.
You
didn’t
tell
me
you
planned
to
return
to
work."
"Then,
how
do
you
know?"
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — B1 Inglés | Cuentana