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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Red-Headed League
Capítulo 2, Página 18
"Then
put
on
your
hat
and
come.
I'm
going
through
the
City
first,
and
we
can
have
lunch
on
the
way.
I
see
there's
a
lot
of
German
music
on
the
program,
which
I
prefer
over
Italian
or
French.
It's
introspective,
and
I
want
to
introspect.
Come
along!"
We
took
the
Underground
to
Aldersgate,
and
a
short
walk
brought
us
to
Saxe-Coburg
Square,
the
scene
of
the
strange
story
we
had
heard
that
morning.
It
was
a
small,
shabby
place,
with
four
rows
of
dingy
two-story
brick
houses
facing
a
small
fenced-in
area,
where
a
patch
of
weedy
grass
and
a
few
faded
laurel
bushes
struggled
against
the
smoky,
unfriendly
air.
Three
golden
balls
and
a
brown
sign
with
"JABEZ
WILSON"
in
white
letters
marked
where
our
red-headed
client
ran
his
business.
Sherlock
Holmes
stopped
in
front
of
it,
tilted
his
head,
and
examined
it
closely,
his
eyes
shining
between
narrowed
lids.
Then
he
walked
slowly
up
the
street
and
back
to
the
corner,
still
observing
the
houses
closely.
Finally,
he
returned
to
the
pawnbroker's,
tapped
the
pavement
with
his
stick
a
few
times,
and
knocked
on
the
door.
It
was
immediately
opened
by
a
bright-looking,
clean-shaven
young
man,
who
invited
him
in.
"Thank
you,"
said
Holmes,
"I
just
wanted
to
ask
how
to
get
to
the
Strand
from
here."
"Third
right,
fourth
left,"
the
assistant
replied
promptly,
closing
the
door.
"Smart
fellow,
that,"
Holmes
commented
as
we
walked
away.
"In
my
opinion,
he's
the
fourth
smartest
man
in
London,
and
for
daring,
he
might
even
be
third.
I've
known
something
about
him
before."
"Clearly,"
I
said,
"Mr.
Wilson's
assistant
plays
a
big
role
in
this
mystery
of
the
Red-headed
League.
I'm
sure
you
asked
for
directions
just
to
see
him."
"Not
him."
"Then
what?"
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — B2 Inglés | Cuentana