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- Джеймс Джойс
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The
trial
began
.
After
about
thirty
seconds
Weathers
brought
his
opponent
's
hand
slowly
down
on
to
the
table
.
Farrington
's
dark
wine-coloured
face
flushed
darker
still
with
anger
and
humiliation
at
having
been
defeated
by
such
a
stripling
.
"
You
're
not
to
put
the
weight
of
your
body
behind
it
.
Play
fair
,
"
he
said
.
"
Who
's
not
playing
fair
?
"
said
the
other
.
"
Come
on
again
.
The
two
best
out
of
three
.
"
The
trial
began
again
.
The
veins
stood
out
on
Farrington
's
forehead
,
and
the
pallor
of
Weathers
'
complexion
changed
to
peony
.
Their
hands
and
arms
trembled
under
the
stress
.
After
a
long
struggle
Weathers
again
brought
his
opponent
's
hand
slowly
on
to
the
table
.
There
was
a
murmur
of
applause
from
the
spectators
.
The
curate
,
who
was
standing
beside
the
table
,
nodded
his
red
head
towards
the
victor
and
said
with
stupid
familiarity
:
"
Ah
!
that
's
the
knack
!
"
"
What
the
hell
do
you
know
about
it
?
"
said
Farrington
fiercely
,
turning
on
the
man
.
"
What
do
you
put
in
your
gab
for
?
"
"
Sh
,
sh
!
"
said
O'Halloran
,
observing
the
violent
expression
of
Farrington
's
face
.
"
Pony
up
,
boys
.
We
'll
have
just
one
little
smahan
more
and
then
we
'll
be
off
.
"
A
very
sullen-faced
man
stood
at
the
corner
of
O'Connell
Bridge
waiting
for
the
little
Sandymount
tram
to
take
him
home
.
He
was
full
of
smouldering
anger
and
revengefulness
.
He
felt
humiliated
and
discontented
;
he
did
not
even
feel
drunk
;
and
he
had
only
twopence
in
his
pocket
.
He
cursed
everything
.
He
had
done
for
himself
in
the
office
,
pawned
his
watch
,
spent
all
his
money
;
and
he
had
not
even
got
drunk
.
He
began
to
feel
thirsty
again
and
he
longed
to
be
back
again
in
the
hot
reeking
public-house
.
He
had
lost
his
reputation
as
a
strong
man
,
having
been
defeated
twice
by
a
mere
boy
.
His
heart
swelled
with
fury
and
,
when
he
thought
of
the
woman
in
the
big
hat
who
had
brushed
against
him
and
said
Pardon
!
his
fury
nearly
choked
him
.
