"Doyle, Arthur Conan - The Stark Munro Letters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doyle Arthur Conan)

I read over what I have written, but I can see that
I give you no real insight into the demoniac cleverness
of Cullingworth. His views upon medicine were most
revolutionary, but I daresay that if things fulfil their
promise I may have a good deal to say about them in the
sequel. With his brilliant and unusual gifts, his fine
athletic record, his strange way of dressing (his hat on
the back of his head and his throat bare), his thundering
voice, and his ugly, powerful face, he had quite the most
marked individuality of any man that I have ever known.

Now, you will think me rather prolix about this man;
but, as it looks as if his life might become entwined
with mine, it is a subject of immediate interest to me,
and I am writing all this for the purpose of reviving my
own half-faded impressions, as well as in the hope of
amusing and interesting you. So I must just give you
one or two other points which may make his character more
clear to you.

He had a dash of the heroic in him. On one occasion
he was placed in such a position that he must choose
between compromising a lady, or springing out of a third-
floor window. Without a moment's hesitation he hurled
himself out of the window. As luck would have it, he
fell through a large laurel bush on to a garden plot,
which was soft with rain, and so escaped with a shaking
and a bruising. If I have to say anything that gives a
bad impression of the man, put that upon the other side.

He was fond of rough horse-play; but it was better to
avoid it with him, for you could never tell what it might
lead to. His temper was nothing less than infernal. I
have seen him in the dissecting-rooms begin to skylark
with a fellow, and then in an instant the fun would go
out of his face, his little eyes would gleam with fury,
and the two would be rolling, worrying each other like
dogs, below the table. He would be dragged off, panting
and speechless with fury, with his wiry hair bristling
straight up like a fighting terrier's.

This pugnacious side of his character would be
worthily used sometimes. I remember that an address
which was being given to us by an eminent London
specialist was much interrupted by a man in the front
row, who amused himself by interjecting remarks. The
lecturer appealed to his audience at last. "These
interruptions are insufferable, gentlemen," said he;
"will no one free me from this annoyance?" "Hold your
tongue--you, sir, on the front bench," cried