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1 The mysterious door
Mr Utterson the lawyer was a quiet， serious man． Hewas shy with strangers and afraid of showing his feelings． Among friends， however， his eyes shone with kindnessand goodness．And， although this goodness never found itsway into his conversation， it showed itself in his way of life．He did not allow himself many enjoyable things in life． He ateand drank simply and， although he enjoyed the theatre，hehad not been to a play for twenty years． However， he wasgentler towards other men’ s weaknesses，and was alwaysready to help rather than blame them． As a lawyer， he was often the last good person that evil…doers met on their way toprison，or worse． These people often carried with them memories of his politeness and fairness．
Mr Utterson's best friend was a distant cousin calledRichard Enfield，who was well known as a fun…loving ‘manabout town’．Nobody could understand why they werefriends， as they were different from each other in every way．They often took long walks together，however， marchingthrough the streets of London in companionable silence．
One of these walks used to take them down a narrow sidestreet in a busy part of London． It was a clean， busy， friendlystreet with bright little shops and shiny doorknockers． Nearthe end of this street， however， stood a dark， mysterious，windowless building．The door had neither bell nor knockerand looked dusty and uncared for． Dirty children played fearlessly on the doorstep， and nobody ever opened the door todrive them away．
One day，as Mr Enfield and his friend passed the building，Mr Enfield pointed to it．
‘Have you ever noticed that place？’he asked．‘It remindsme of a very strange story．’
‘Really？’said Mr Utterson．‘Tell me．’
‘Well，’began Enfield，‘I was coming home about threeo’clock on a black winter morning，when suddenly I saw twopeople．The first was a short man who was walking along thestreet，and the second was a little girl who was running as fastas she could． Well，the two bumped into each other and thechild fell down．Then a terrible thing happened．The mancalmly walked all over the child's body with his heavy boots，and left her screaming on the ground．It was an inhuman thingto do．I ran after the man， caught him and fetched him back．There was already a small crowd around the screaming child．The man was perfectly cool， but he gave me a very evil look，which made me feel sick in my stomach．The child's familythen arrived， and also a doctor． The child had been sent tofetch the doctor for a sick neighbour，and was on her wayhome again．
‘“The child is more frightened than hurt，”said thedoctor—and that， you would think， was the end of the story．But， you see，I had taken a violent dislike to the short man．So had the child's family—that was only natural．But the doctor， who seemed a quiet， kindly man， was also looking at ourprisoner with murder in his eyes．
‘The doctor and I understood each other perfectly．Together we shouted at the man， and told him we would tell this story all over London so that his name would be hated．
‘He looked back at us with a proud，blach look．“Nameyour price，”he said．
‘We made him agree to a hundred pounds for the child’ sfamily． With another black look， the man led us to that doorover there．He took out a key and let himself into thebuilding．Presently he came out and handed us ten pounds ingold and a cheque for ninety pounds from Coutts's Bank． Thename on the cheque was a well…known one．
‘“See here，”said the doctor doubtfully，“it isn't usual for aman to walk into an empty house at four in the morning andcome out with another man's cheque for nearly a hundredpounds．”
‘“Don't worry，”said the man with an ugly look，“I'll staywith you until the banks open，and
change the chequemyself．”
‘So we all went off， the doctor and the prisoner and myself，and spent the rest of the night at my house．In the morningwe went together to the bank． Sure enough， the cheque wasgood， and the money was passed to the child's family．’
‘Well，well，’said Mr Utterson．
‘Yes，’said Enfield，‘it's a strange story．My prisoner wasclearly a hard， cruel man． But the man whose name was onthe cheque was well known all over London for his kind andgenerous acts．Why would a man like that give his cheque to acriminal？’
‘And you don't know if the writer of the cheque lives inthat building？’asked Mr Utterson．
‘I don't like to ask，’said his friend．‘In my experience，it's not a good idea to ask too many questions，in case the answers are ugly，violent ones．But I've studied the place alittle．It doesn't seem like a house． There's no other door，and the only person who uses that door is the man I've just described to you．There are three windows on the side of thehouse，which look down onto a small courtyard．The windowsare shut，but they're always clean．There's a chimney too，which is usually smoking．So somebody must live there．’
The two men continued on their walk． Then Utterson brokethe silence．
‘Enfield，’he said，‘you're right about not asking toomany questions．However，I want to ask the name of the manwho walked over the child．’
‘Very well，’ said Enfield．‘He told us his name wasHyde．’
‘What does he look like？’
‘He's not easy to describe， although I remember him perfectly．He's a strange…looking man．He's short，but has astrong， heavy body．There's something wrong with his appearance，something ugly and unpleasing—no，somethinghateful．I disliked him at once．’
Mr Utterson thought deeply．‘Are you sure he used a key？’he asked．
‘What do you mean？’asked Enfield in surprise．
‘I know it must seem strange，’said his friend．‘But yousee， if I don't ask you the name on the cheque， it's because Iknow it already…’
‘Well， why didn't you tell me？’said his friend rathercrossly．‘Anyway， he did have a key， and he still has it． Isaw him use it only a week ago．’
Mr Utterson looked at him thoughtfully，but said nothingmore．
2 In search of Mr Hyde
After dinner that evening Mr Utterson went into his office and unlocked a cupboard． He took out an envelope．It contained the will of Doctor Henry Jekyll，and was writtenin the doctor's own handwriting．
‘If I die，or if I disappear for more than three months，’thewill began，‘I wish to leave everything I own to my dearfriend Edward Hyde．’
This will had both worried and annoyed Mr Utterson． To alawyer it was an unusual and dangerous kind of will． It wasbad enough when Edward Hyde was only an unknown name，but now that the lawyer knew something about Hyde， the willworried him more than ever． It had seemed like madness before；now it began to seem shameful． With a heavy heart MrUtterson replaced the envelope in the cupboard，put on hiscoat and went to see his old friend Doctor Lanyon．
Doctor Lanyon was enjoying his after…dinner coffee．‘Comein，old friend！’ he cried． The two men had known each othersince their school days．They sat for several minutes，drinkingcoffee and talking companionably of this and that． At last MrUtterson mentioned the thoughts that were worrying him．
‘I suppose，Lanyon，’he said，‘that you and I are HenryJekyll's oldest friends？’
‘I suppose so，’said Doctor Lanyon，‘but I don't often seehim now．’
‘Really？’ said Mr Utterson in surprise．‘I thought you andhe were interested in the same things．’
‘We were at one time，’said Doctor Lanyon．‘But morethan ten years ago Henry Jekyll became too—well，imaginativefor me． He developed some strange，wild， unscientific ideas． Itold him so，and I've seen very little of him since then．’
Mr Utterson looked at his friend's red， angry face．‘Only adisagreement about some scientific question，’he thought．‘It's nothing worse than that．’ Calmly he continued，‘Didyou ever meet a friend of Jekyll's a man called Hyde？’
‘Hyde？’repeated Lanyon．‘No， never．’
Soon the lawyer said goodnight and went home to bed，where he lay awake for a long time thinking about Enfield's description of Hyde，and Doctor Jekyll's will．When at last hefell asleep，he was troubled by dreams． In his mind's eye hesaw a faceless man marching over the child's body．Then hesaw his old friend Jekyll in bed，while the same faceless figurestood over him．The facelessness of that figure worried himdeeply．
‘Very well，Mr Hyde，’said the lawyer to himself，‘I willfind you，and I will see your face for myself．’
During the next few weeks Mr Utterson spent many hoursin the narrow street where Enfield had seen Hyde．He waitedpatiently near the mysterious door， hoping for a sight of MrHyde—and one dry， clear winter night he was successful．The street was empty and silent and small sounds carried along way．The lawyer heard footsteps． He stepped back intothe shadows and waited．A short figure turned the corner andwalked towards the mysterious door． Although Mr Uttersoncould not see his face， he felt a strong， almost violent， dislike