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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Man with the Twisted Lip
Capítulo 6, Página 1
Isa
Whitney,
brother
of
the
late
Elias
Whitney,
D.D.,
Principal
of
the
Theological
College
of
St.
George’s,
was
deeply
addicted
to
opium.
This
habit
started,
as
I
understand,
from
some
foolish
experiment
during
his
college
days.
He
had
read
De
Quincey’s
descriptions
of
dreams
and
sensations
and
tried
to
replicate
them
by
soaking
his
tobacco
in
laudanum.
Like
many
others,
he
found
it
easy
to
start
but
impossible
to
quit,
and
for
years
he
remained
a
slave
to
the
drug,
evoking
both
horror
and
pity
among
his
friends
and
family.
I
can
picture
him
now,
with
his
yellowish,
unhealthy
face,
drooping
eyelids,
and
tiny
pupils,
slumped
in
a
chair,
the
shadow
of
a
once
great
man.
One
evening
in
June
1889,
there
was
a
ring
at
my
doorbell
just
as
I
was
starting
to
feel
drowsy
and
glanced
at
the
clock.
I
sat
up,
and
my
wife
put
down
her
needlework,
looking
a
bit
disappointed.
“A
patient!”
she
said.
“You’ll
have
to
go
out.”
I
groaned,
as
I
had
just
returned
from
a
long,
tiring
day.
We
heard
the
door
open,
a
few
hurried
words
exchanged,
and
then
quick
footsteps
on
the
linoleum.
Our
door
flew
open,
and
a
woman
in
dark
clothing
with
a
black
veil
entered
the
room.
“Excuse
my
calling
so
late,”
she
began,
but
then
lost
her
composure,
rushed
forward,
embraced
my
wife,
and
sobbed
on
her
shoulder.
“Oh,
I’m
in
such
trouble!”
she
cried.
“I
really
need
some
help.”
“Why,
it’s
Kate
Whitney,”
said
my
wife,
lifting
the
veil.
“You
startled
me,
Kate!
I
had
no
idea
who
you
were
when
you
came
in.”
“I
didn’t
know
what
else
to
do,
so
I
came
straight
to
you.”
That
was
always
the
way.
People
in
distress
came
to
my
wife
like
birds
to
a
lighthouse.
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — B2 Inglés | Cuentana