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147
Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Man with the Twisted Lip
Capítulo 6, Página 20
“Never.”
“Had
he
ever
shown
signs
of
using
opium?”
“Never.”
“Thank
you,
Mrs.
St.
Clair.
Those
are
the
main
points
I
needed
to
clarify.
We’ll
have
a
little
supper
now
and
then
rest,
as
we
might
have
a
very
busy
day
tomorrow.”
A
large,
comfortable
double-bedded
room
was
available
to
us,
and
I
quickly
got
into
bed,
tired
from
my
night
of
adventure.
Sherlock
Holmes,
however,
was
a
man
who,
when
faced
with
an
unsolved
problem,
could
go
for
days,
even
a
week,
without
rest,
examining
it
from
every
angle
until
he
solved
it
or
decided
he
lacked
enough
information.
It
was
clear
to
me
that
he
was
preparing
for
an
all-night
session.
He
took
off
his
coat
and
waistcoat,
put
on
a
large
blue
dressing-gown,
and
wandered
around
the
room,
gathering
pillows
from
his
bed
and
cushions
from
the
sofa
and
armchairs.
With
these,
he
made
a
sort
of
Eastern
divan,
where
he
sat
cross-legged,
with
an
ounce
of
shag
tobacco
and
a
box
of
matches
in
front
of
him.
In
the
dim
light
of
the
lamp,
I
saw
him
sitting
there,
an
old
briar
pipe
in
his
mouth,
his
eyes
staring
vacantly
at
the
corner
of
the
ceiling,
blue
smoke
curling
up
from
him,
silent,
motionless,
with
the
light
highlighting
his
strong
features.
He
sat
like
that
as
I
fell
asleep,
and
he
was
still
there
when
a
sudden
exclamation
woke
me,
and
I
found
the
summer
sun
shining
into
the
room.
The
pipe
was
still
in
his
mouth,
the
smoke
still
curled
upward,
and
the
room
was
filled
with
dense
tobacco
haze,
but
the
heap
of
shag
I
had
seen
the
night
before
was
gone.
“Awake,
Watson?”
he
asked.
“Yes.”
“Up
for
a
morning
drive?”
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — B2 Inglés | Cuentana