Note: This is part of a series where I translate The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson from English to Japanese. This is purely an exercise to learn Japanese and will most

Mr. Utterson again walked some way in silence and obviously under a weight of consideration. “You are sure he used a key?” he inquired at last. “My dear sir⁠ ⁠…” began Enfield, surprised out of himself.

“But for all that,” continued the lawyer, “there’s one point I want to ask: I want to ask the name of that man who walked over the child.” “Well,” said Mr. Enfield, “I can’t see what harm it would do.

“A very good rule, too,” said the lawyer. “But I have studied the place for myself,” continued Mr. Enfield. “It seems scarcely a house. There is no other door, and nobody goes in or out of that one but,

From this he was recalled by Mr. Utterson asking rather suddenly: “And you don’t know if the drawer of the cheque lives there?” “A likely place, isn’t it?” returned Mr. Enfield. “But I happen to have noticed

“Tut-tut,” said Mr. Utterson. “I see you feel as I do,” said Mr. Enfield. “Yes, it’s a bad story. For my man was a fellow that nobody could have to do with, a really damnable man; and the person that drew

The figure was stiff; but the signature was good for more than that if it was only genuine. I took the liberty of pointing out to my gentleman that the whole business looked apocryphal, and that a man

I never saw a circle of such hateful faces; and there was the man in the middle, with a kind of black sneering coolness⁠—frightened too, I could see that⁠—but carrying it off, sir, really like Satan. ‘If

I had taken a loathing to my gentleman at first sight. So had the child’s family, which was only natural. But the doctor’s case was what struck me. He was the usual cut and dry apothecary, of no particular

It sounds nothing to hear, but it was hellish to see. It wasn’t like a man; it was like some damned Juggernaut. I gave a few halloa, took to my heels, collared my gentleman, and brought him back to where

Street after street and all the folks asleep⁠—street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as empty as a church⁠—till at last I got into that state of mind when a man listens and

Mr. Enfield and the lawyer were on the other side of the bystreet; but when they came abreast of the entry, the former lifted up his cane and pointed. “Did you ever remark that door?” he asked; and when

Two doors from one corner, on the left hand going east the line was broken by the entry of a court; and just at that point a certain sinister block of building thrust forward its gable on the street. It

It chanced on one of these rambles that their way led them down a bystreet in a busy quarter of London. The street was small and what is called quiet, but it drove a thriving trade on the weekdays. The

It was a nut to crack for many, what these two could see in each other, or what subject they could find in common. It was reported by those who encountered them in their Sunday walks, that they said nothing,

No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for he was undemonstrative at the best, and even his friendship seemed to be founded in a similar catholicity of good-nature. It is the mark of a modest man