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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 56/192
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The
man
walked
heavily
towards
the
door
and
,
as
he
went
out
of
the
room
,
he
heard
Mr.
Alleyne
cry
after
him
that
if
the
contract
was
not
copied
by
evening
Mr.
Crosbie
would
hear
of
the
matter
.
He
returned
to
his
desk
in
the
lower
office
and
counted
the
sheets
which
remained
to
be
copied
.
He
took
up
his
pen
and
dipped
it
in
the
ink
but
he
continued
to
stare
stupidly
at
the
last
words
he
had
written
:
In
no
case
shall
the
said
Bernard
Bodley
be
...
The
evening
was
falling
and
in
a
few
minutes
they
would
be
lighting
the
gas
:
then
he
could
write
.
He
felt
that
he
must
slake
the
thirst
in
his
throat
.
He
stood
up
from
his
desk
and
,
lifting
the
counter
as
before
,
passed
out
of
the
office
.
As
he
was
passing
out
the
chief
clerk
looked
at
him
inquiringly
.
"
It
's
all
right
,
Mr.
Shelley
,
"
said
the
man
,
pointing
with
his
finger
to
indicate
the
objective
of
his
journey
.
The
chief
clerk
glanced
at
the
hat-rack
,
but
,
seeing
the
row
complete
,
offered
no
remark
.
As
soon
as
he
was
on
the
landing
the
man
pulled
a
shepherd
's
plaid
cap
out
of
his
pocket
,
put
it
on
his
head
and
ran
quickly
down
the
rickety
stairs
.
From
the
street
door
he
walked
on
furtively
on
the
inner
side
of
the
path
towards
the
corner
and
all
at
once
dived
into
a
doorway
.
He
was
now
safe
in
the
dark
snug
of
O'Neill
's
shop
,
and
filling
up
the
little
window
that
looked
into
the
bar
with
his
inflamed
face
,
the
colour
of
dark
wine
or
dark
meat
,
he
called
out
:
"
Here
,
Pat
,
give
us
a
g.p.
.
like
a
good
fellow
.
"
The
curate
brought
him
a
glass
of
plain
porter
.
The
man
drank
it
at
a
gulp
and
asked
for
a
caraway
seed
.
He
put
his
penny
on
the
counter
and
,
leaving
the
curate
to
grope
for
it
in
the
gloom
,
retreated
out
of
the
snug
as
furtively
as
he
had
entered
it
.
Darkness
,
accompanied
by
a
thick
fog
,
was
gaining
upon
the
dusk
of
February
and
the
lamps
in
Eustace
Street
had
been
lit
.
The
man
went
up
by
the
houses
until
he
reached
the
door
of
the
office
,
wondering
whether
he
could
finish
his
copy
in
time
.
On
the
stairs
a
moist
pungent
odour
of
perfumes
saluted
his
nose
:
evidently
Miss
Delacour
had
come
while
he
was
out
in
O'Neill
's
.
He
crammed
his
cap
back
again
into
his
pocket
and
re-entered
the
office
,
assuming
an
air
of
absentmindedness
.
"
Mr.
Alleyne
has
been
calling
for
you
,
"
said
the
chief
clerk
severely
.
"
Where
were
you
?
"
The
man
glanced
at
the
two
clients
who
were
standing
at
the
counter
as
if
to
intimate
that
their
presence
prevented
him
from
answering
.
As
the
clients
were
both
male
the
chief
clerk
allowed
himself
a
laugh
.
