A Photograph
The next day we went to Irene Norton's house, with the King. An old servant opened the door. 'Mr Sherlock Holmes?' she asked, and smiled. 'Yes,' said my friend. He looked very surprised. 'Mrs Irene Norton and her husband left England this morning. They will never come back to this country.' 'What?' cried Holmes, his face white and angry. 'And what about the photograph?' cried the King. We all hurried into the sitting-room. Holmes ran to the cupboard and opened it. Inside was a photograph, not of Irene Adler and the King, but of the beautiful Irene alone. There was also a letter for Sherlock Holmes. We all read it together.
A Photograph The next day we went to Irene Norton's house, with the King. An old servant opened the door. 'Mr Sherlock Holmes?' she asked, and smiled. 'Yes,' said my friend. He looked very surprised. 'Mrs Irene Norton and her husband left England this morning. They will never come back to this country.' 'What?' cried Holmes, his face white and angry. 'And what about the photograph?' cried the King. We all hurried into the sitting-room. Holmes ran to the cupboard and opened it. Inside was a photograph, not of Irene Adler and the King, but of the beautiful Irene alone. There was also a letter for Sherlock Holmes. We all read it together.
การแปล กรุณารอสักครู่..