My friend rose lazily from his armchair (мой друг лениво поднялся с кресла) and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown (и встал /у меня за спиной/, засунув руки в карманы халата), looking over my shoulder (глядя через мое плечо). It was a bright, crisp February morning (было ясное морозное февральское утро; crisp — хрустящий; бодрящий, свежий), and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground (и вчерашний снег лежал толстым слоем на земле), shimmering brightly in the wintry sun (ярко сверкая на зимнем солнце; to shimmer — мерцать; блестеть). Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the traffic (на середине Бейкер-стрит колеса превратили его в бурую рыхлую полосу; to plough — пахать; бороздить, рассекать; plough — плуг; crumbly — крошащийся; рассыпчатый, рыхлый; to crumble up — раскрошить, растолочь, растереть /в порошок/; traffic — движение; транспорт), but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths (но по краям /дороги/ и у пешеходных дорожек с сугробами по бокам; foot-path — пешеходная дорожка; тротуар; to heap up — сваливать в кучу, нагромождать; edge — кромка, край; грань, граница) it still lay as white as when it fell (он по-прежнему был таким же белым, как будто только выпал). The gray pavement had been cleaned and scraped (серый тротуар очистили; to clean — чистить; to scrape — скоблить, скрести, чистить), but was still dangerously slippery (но все же было опасно скользко; to slip — скользить), so that there were fewer passengers than usual (так что пешеходов: «пассажиров» было меньше, чем обычно). Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming (/по направлению/ от станции подземки никто не приближался) save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention (кроме одного джентльмена, чье эксцентричное поведение и привлекло мое внимание).

relatives ['rel@tIvz], plough [plau], eccentric [Ik'sentrIk]

“Holmes,” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, “here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.”

My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The gray pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.