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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Man with the Twisted Lip
Capítulo 6, Página 27
"Well,
you
can
imagine
how
hard
it
was
to
go
back
to
working
hard
for
£2
a
week
when
I
knew
I
could
earn
as
much
in
a
day
by
smearing
my
face
with
a
little
paint,
laying
my
cap
on
the
ground,
and
sitting
still.
It
was
a
long
fight
between
my
pride
and
the
money,
but
the
money
won
in
the
end,
and
I
gave
up
reporting
to
sit
day
after
day
in
the
corner
I
had
first
chosen,
inspiring
pity
with
my
ghastly
face
and
filling
my
pockets
with
coins.
Only
one
man
knew
my
secret.
He
was
the
keeper
of
a
low
place
where
I
used
to
lodge
in
Swandam
Lane,
where
I
could
emerge
each
morning
as
a
filthy
beggar
and
transform
myself
into
a
well-dressed
man
about
town
in
the
evenings.
This
man,
a
Lascar,
was
well
paid
by
me
for
his
rooms,
so
I
knew
my
secret
was
safe
with
him."
"Soon,
I
found
I
was
saving
considerable
sums
of
money.
I
don’t
mean
that
any
beggar
in
London
could
earn
£700
a
year—which
is
less
than
my
average
earnings—but
I
had
special
advantages
in
my
makeup
skills
and
a
quick
wit,
which
improved
with
practice
and
made
me
quite
a
known
character
in
the
city.
All
day,
a
stream
of
pennies,
sometimes
silver,
poured
in,
and
it
was
a
bad
day
when
I
didn’t
make
£2."
"As
I
grew
richer,
I
became
more
ambitious,
bought
a
house
in
the
country,
and
eventually
married,
without
anyone
suspecting
my
real
occupation.
My
dear
wife
knew
I
had
business
in
the
City.
She
had
no
idea
what
it
really
was."
"Last
Monday,
I
had
finished
my
work
and
was
getting
dressed
in
my
room
above
the
opium
den.
Looking
out
the
window,
I
was
shocked
to
see
my
wife
staring
up
at
me
from
the
street.
I
cried
out
in
surprise,
covered
my
face
with
my
arms,
and
rushed
to
my
confidant,
the
Lascar,
begging
him
to
stop
anyone
from
coming
up.
I
heard
her
voice
downstairs
but
knew
she
couldn't
come
up.
Quickly,
I
changed
into
a
beggar's
clothes,
complete
with
pigments
and
a
wig.
Even
my
wife
wouldn't
recognize
me.
But
then
I
worried
they
might
search
the
room
and
find
my
clothes.
I
opened
the
window,
reopening
a
small
cut
on
my
hand
from
earlier
that
day.
Grabbing
my
coat,
heavy
with
coins
I
had
just
transferred
from
my
leather
bag,
I
threw
it
into
the
Thames.
I
was
about
to
throw
the
rest
of
the
clothes
when
constables
rushed
up
the
stairs.
To
my
relief,
instead
of
being
identified
as
Mr.
Neville
St.
Clair,
I
was
arrested
as
his
murderer."
"I
don't
think
there's
much
else
to
explain.
I
wanted
to
keep
my
disguise
for
as
long
as
possible,
which
is
why
I
preferred
a
dirty
face.
Knowing
my
wife
would
be
worried,
I
took
off
my
ring
and
gave
it
to
the
Lascar
with
a
quick
note
telling
her
not
to
worry,
while
no
one
was
watching."
"That
note
only
reached
her
yesterday,"
said
Holmes.
"Good
God!
What
a
week
she
must
have
had!"
"The
police
have
been
watching
this
Lascar,"
said
Inspector
Bradstreet,
"so
I
understand
why
posting
a
letter
might
be
hard
for
him.
He
probably
gave
it
to
a
sailor
customer
who
forgot
about
it
for
a
few
days."
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — B2 Inglés | Cuentana