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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 19/192
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She
sat
at
the
window
watching
the
evening
invade
the
avenue
.
Her
head
was
leaned
against
the
window
curtains
and
in
her
nostrils
was
the
odour
of
dusty
cretonne
.
She
was
tired
.
Few
people
passed
.
The
man
out
of
the
last
house
passed
on
his
way
home
;
she
heard
his
footsteps
clacking
along
the
concrete
pavement
and
afterwards
crunching
on
the
cinder
path
before
the
new
red
houses
.
One
time
there
used
to
be
a
field
there
in
which
they
used
to
play
every
evening
with
other
people
's
children
.
Then
a
man
from
Belfast
bought
the
field
and
built
houses
in
it
--
not
like
their
little
brown
houses
but
bright
brick
houses
with
shining
roofs
.
The
children
of
the
avenue
used
to
play
together
in
that
field
--
the
Devines
,
the
Waters
,
the
Dunns
,
little
Keogh
the
cripple
,
she
and
her
brothers
and
sisters
.
Ernest
,
however
,
never
played
:
he
was
too
grown
up
.
Her
father
used
often
to
hunt
them
in
out
of
the
field
with
his
blackthorn
stick
;
but
usually
little
Keogh
used
to
keep
nix
and
call
out
when
he
saw
her
father
coming
.
Still
they
seemed
to
have
been
rather
happy
then
.
Her
father
was
not
so
bad
then
;
and
besides
,
her
mother
was
alive
.
That
was
a
long
time
ago
;
she
and
her
brothers
and
sisters
were
all
grown
up
her
mother
was
dead
.
Tizzie
Dunn
was
dead
,
too
,
and
the
Waters
had
gone
back
to
England
.
Everything
changes
.
Now
she
was
going
to
go
away
like
the
others
,
to
leave
her
home
.
Home
!
She
looked
round
the
room
,
reviewing
all
its
familiar
objects
which
she
had
dusted
once
a
week
for
so
many
years
,
wondering
where
on
earth
all
the
dust
came
from
.
Perhaps
she
would
never
see
again
those
familiar
objects
from
which
she
had
never
dreamed
of
being
divided
.
And
yet
during
all
those
years
she
had
never
found
out
the
name
of
the
priest
whose
yellowing
photograph
hung
on
the
wall
above
the
broken
harmonium
beside
the
coloured
print
of
the
promises
made
to
Blessed
Margaret
Mary
Alacoque
.
He
had
been
a
school
friend
of
her
father
.
Whenever
he
showed
the
photograph
to
a
visitor
her
father
used
to
pass
it
with
a
casual
word
:
"
He
is
in
Melbourne
now
.
"
She
had
consented
to
go
away
,
to
leave
her
home
.
Was
that
wise
?
She
tried
to
weigh
each
side
of
the
question
.
In
her
home
anyway
she
had
shelter
and
food
;
she
had
those
whom
she
had
known
all
her
life
about
her
.
O
course
she
had
to
work
hard
,
both
in
the
house
and
at
business
.
What
would
they
say
of
her
in
the
Stores
when
they
found
out
that
she
had
run
away
with
a
fellow
?
Say
she
was
a
fool
,
perhaps
;
and
her
place
would
be
filled
up
by
advertisement
.
Miss
Gavan
would
be
glad
.
She
had
always
had
an
edge
on
her
,
especially
whenever
there
were
people
listening
.
"
Miss
Hill
,
do
n't
you
see
these
ladies
are
waiting
?
"
"
Look
lively
,
Miss
Hill
,
please
.
"
She
would
not
cry
many
tears
at
leaving
the
Stores
.
But
in
her
new
home
,
in
a
distant
unknown
country
,
it
would
not
be
like
that
.
Then
she
would
be
married
--
she
,
Eveline
.
People
would
treat
her
with
respect
then
.
She
would
not
be
treated
as
her
mother
had
been
.
Even
now
,
though
she
was
over
nineteen
,
she
sometimes
felt
herself
in
danger
of
her
father
's
violence
.
She
knew
it
was
that
that
had
given
her
the
palpitations
.
When
they
were
growing
up
he
had
never
gone
for
her
like
he
used
to
go
for
Harry
and
Ernest
,
because
she
was
a
girl
but
latterly
he
had
begun
to
threaten
her
and
say
what
he
would
do
to
her
only
for
her
dead
mother
's
sake
.
And
no
she
had
nobody
to
protect
her
.
Ernest
was
dead
and
Harry
,
who
was
in
the
church
decorating
business
,
was
nearly
always
down
somewhere
in
the
country
.
Besides
,
the
invariable
squabble
for
money
on
Saturday
nights
had
begun
to
weary
her
unspeakably
.
She
always
gave
her
entire
wages
--
seven
shillings
--
and
Harry
always
sent
up
what
he
could
but
the
trouble
was
to
get
any
money
from
her
father
.
He
said
she
used
to
squander
the
money
,
that
she
had
no
head
,
that
he
was
n't
going
to
give
her
his
hard-earned
money
to
throw
about
the
streets
,
and
much
more
,
for
he
was
usually
fairly
bad
on
Saturday
night
.
In
the
end
he
would
give
her
the
money
and
ask
her
had
she
any
intention
of
buying
Sunday
's
dinner
.
Then
she
had
to
rush
out
as
quickly
as
she
could
and
do
her
marketing
,
holding
her
black
leather
purse
tightly
in
her
hand
as
she
elbowed
her
way
through
the
crowds
and
returning
home
late
under
her
load
of
provisions
.
She
had
hard
work
to
keep
the
house
together
and
to
see
that
the
two
young
children
who
had
been
left
to
hr
charge
went
to
school
regularly
and
got
their
meals
regularly
.
It
was
hard
work
--
a
hard
life
--
but
now
that
she
was
about
to
leave
it
she
did
not
find
it
a
wholly
undesirable
life
.
