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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Adventure of the Copper Beeches
Capítulo 12, Página 11
It
was
not
very
long
before
my
friend’s
prediction
was
fulfilled.
A
fortnight
went
by,
during
which
I
frequently
found
my
thoughts
turning
in
her
direction
and
wondering
what
strange
side-alley
of
human
experience
this
lonely
woman
had
strayed
into.
The
unusual
salary,
the
curious
conditions,
the
light
duties,
all
pointed
to
something
abnormal,
though
whether
a
fad
or
a
plot,
or
whether
the
man
were
a
philanthropist
or
a
villain,
it
was
quite
beyond
my
powers
to
determine.
As
to
Holmes,
I
observed
that
he
sat
frequently
for
half
an
hour
on
end,
with
knitted
brows
and
an
abstracted
air,
but
he
swept
the
matter
away
with
a
wave
of
his
hand
when
I
mentioned
it.
“Data!
data!
data!”
he
cried
impatiently.
“I
can’t
make
bricks
without
clay.”
And
yet
he
would
always
wind
up
by
muttering
that
no
sister
of
his
should
ever
have
accepted
such
a
situation.
The
telegram
which
we
eventually
received
came
late
one
night
just
as
I
was
thinking
of
turning
in
and
Holmes
was
settling
down
to
one
of
those
all-night
chemical
researches
which
he
frequently
indulged
in,
when
I
would
leave
him
stooping
over
a
retort
and
a
test-tube
at
night
and
find
him
in
the
same
position
when
I
came
down
to
breakfast
in
the
morning.
He
opened
the
yellow
envelope,
and
then,
glancing
at
the
message,
threw
it
across
to
me.
“Just
look
up
the
trains
in
Bradshaw,”
said
he,
and
turned
back
to
his
chemical
studies.
The
summons
was
a
brief
and
urgent
one.
“Please
be
at
the
Black
Swan
Hotel
at
Winchester
at
midday
to-morrow,”
it
said.
“Do
come!
I
am
at
my
wit’s
end.”
“HUNTER.”
“Will
you
come
with
me?”
asked
Holmes,
glancing
up.
“I
should
wish
to.”
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — C1 Inglés | Cuentana