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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes
The Adventure of the Copper Beeches
Capítulo 12, Página 12
“Just
look
it
up,
then.”
“There
is
a
train
at
half-past
nine,”
said
I,
glancing
over
my
Bradshaw.
“It
is
due
at
Winchester
at
11:.”
“That
will
do
very
nicely.
Then
perhaps
I
had
better
postpone
my
analysis
of
the
acetones,
as
we
may
need
to
be
at
our
best
in
the
morning.”
By
eleven
o’clock
the
next
day
we
were
well
upon
our
way
to
the
old
English
capital.
Holmes
had
been
buried
in
the
morning
papers
all
the
way
down,
but
after
we
had
passed
the
Hampshire
border
he
threw
them
down
and
began
to
admire
the
scenery.
It
was
an
ideal
spring
day,
a
light
blue
sky,
flecked
with
little
fleecy
white
clouds
drifting
across
from
west
to
east.
The
sun
was
shining
very
brightly,
and
yet
there
was
an
exhilarating
nip
in
the
air,
which
set
an
edge
to
a
man’s
energy.
All
over
the
countryside,
away
to
the
rolling
hills
around
Aldershot,
the
little
red
and
grey
roofs
of
the
farm-steadings
peeped
out
from
amid
the
light
green
of
the
new
foliage.
“Are
they
not
fresh
and
beautiful?”
I
cried
with
all
the
enthusiasm
of
a
man
fresh
from
the
fogs
of
Baker
Street.
But
Holmes
shook
his
head
gravely.
“Do
you
know,
Watson,”
said
he,
“that
it
is
one
of
the
curses
of
a
mind
with
a
turn
like
mine
that
I
must
look
at
everything
with
reference
to
my
own
special
subject.
You
look
at
these
scattered
houses,
and
you
are
impressed
by
their
beauty.
I
look
at
them,
and
the
only
thought
which
comes
to
me
is
a
feeling
of
their
isolation
and
of
the
impunity
with
which
crime
may
be
committed
there.”
“Good
heavens!”
I
cried.
“Who
would
associate
crime
with
these
dear
old
homesteads?”
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Las aventuras de Sherlock Holmes — C1 Inglés | Cuentana