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ボヘミアの醜聞：作者：サー・アーサー・コナン・ドイル
至る、シャーロック ホームズ、彼女は状態、いつでも あの女性。
To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman.
私は 滅多に聞いたことがない、彼から、 話題にするとき、彼女を 、どんなときも、他の名前。
I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name.
中、彼の目、彼女は、覆い隠し、そして卓越している、the 全体、部分 彼女の性。
In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex.
とにかく違っていた、次のこととは、彼が、感じた、何か、感情、似たような、至る 愛する、対象 アイリーン アドラー。
It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler.
すべての感情、そして、その一つ愛、特に、状態だった、忌まわしい、至る、彼の冷静、的確、でも見事にバランスのとれた精神。
All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind.
彼は状態だった、私が思うに、とにかく、最も完璧な推理と観察の機械、その機械、世間の人々が見てきた、でも、ア、恋愛する者としては、彼は置いてしまっているかもしれない、彼自身、中、ア、間違った位置。
He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position.
彼は、決して話さなかった、部分 the より穏やかな情慾さえ、次なしには、ア、あざけりと、ア、冷笑。
He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer.
それらは状態だった、見事なこと、対象、the 優れた 観察者、対象、引きはがすこと、the 覆っているもの、起点、人の動機や行動。
They were admirable things for the observer―excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions.
しかし、対象 the 訓練された推論者、至る、認める、そのような侵入、中に至る、 彼自身の繊細で見事に調整された気質、状態だった、至る、 取り込む、 ア、気を散らす要因、その要因は 、投げかけるかもしれない、ア 疑問、接触、すべての彼の知的な成果。
But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results.
小さな砂、中、ア、繊細な実験器具や、ア、ひび割れ、中、 １つの部分、 彼独自の高倍率レンズ、あまり邪魔にならないだろう、次より、 ア、激しい感情、中、 ア、性質、彼のような。
Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his.
それにもかかわらず、いたのだ、一人だけ女性、至る、彼に、そしてその女性、 状態だった、the 元・アイリーン アドラー、部分、 謎多く不確かな記憶。
And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.
To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer―excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.