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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 66/192
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They
led
her
up
to
the
table
amid
laughing
and
joking
and
she
put
her
hand
out
in
the
air
as
she
was
told
to
do
.
She
moved
her
hand
about
here
and
there
in
the
air
and
descended
on
one
of
the
saucers
.
She
felt
a
soft
wet
substance
with
her
fingers
and
was
surprised
that
nobody
spoke
or
took
off
her
bandage
.
There
was
a
pause
for
a
few
seconds
;
and
then
a
great
deal
of
scuffling
and
whispering
.
Somebody
said
something
about
the
garden
,
and
at
last
Mrs.
Donnelly
said
something
very
cross
to
one
of
the
next-door
girls
and
told
her
to
throw
it
out
at
once
:
that
was
no
play
.
Maria
understood
that
it
was
wrong
that
time
and
so
she
had
to
do
it
over
again
:
and
this
time
she
got
the
prayer-book
.
After
that
Mrs.
Donnelly
played
Miss
McCloud
's
Reel
for
the
children
and
Joe
made
Maria
take
a
glass
of
wine
.
Soon
they
were
all
quite
merry
again
and
Mrs.
Donnelly
said
Maria
would
enter
a
convent
before
the
year
was
out
because
she
had
got
the
prayer-book
.
Maria
had
never
seen
Joe
so
nice
to
her
as
he
was
that
night
,
so
full
of
pleasant
talk
and
reminiscences
.
She
said
they
were
all
very
good
to
her
.
At
last
the
children
grew
tired
and
sleepy
and
Joe
asked
Maria
would
she
not
sing
some
little
song
before
she
went
,
one
of
the
old
songs
.
Mrs.
Donnelly
said
"
Do
,
please
,
Maria
!
"
and
so
Maria
had
to
get
up
and
stand
beside
the
piano
.
Mrs.
Donnelly
bade
the
children
be
quiet
and
listen
to
Maria
's
song
.
Then
she
played
the
prelude
and
said
"
Now
,
Maria
!
"
and
Maria
,
blushing
very
much
began
to
sing
in
a
tiny
quavering
voice
.
She
sang
I
Dreamt
that
I
Dwelt
,
and
when
she
came
to
the
second
verse
she
sang
again
:
I
dreamt
that
I
dwelt
in
marble
hallsWith
vassals
and
serfs
at
my
side
,
And
of
all
who
assembled
within
those
wallsThat
I
was
the
hope
and
the
pride
.
I
had
riches
too
great
to
count
;
could
boastOf
a
high
ancestral
name
,
But
I
also
dreamt
,
which
pleased
me
most
,
That
you
loved
me
still
the
same
But
no
one
tried
to
show
her
her
mistake
;
and
when
she
had
ended
her
song
Joe
was
very
much
moved
.
He
said
that
there
was
no
time
like
the
long
ago
and
no
music
for
him
like
poor
old
Balfe
,
whatever
other
people
might
say
;
and
his
eyes
filled
up
so
much
with
tears
that
he
could
not
find
what
he
was
looking
for
and
in
the
end
he
had
to
ask
his
wife
to
tell
him
where
the
corkscrew
was
.
Mr.
James
Duffy
lived
in
Chapelizod
because
he
wished
to
live
as
far
as
possible
from
the
city
of
which
he
was
a
citizen
and
because
he
found
all
the
other
suburbs
of
Dublin
mean
,
modern
and
pretentious
.
He
lived
in
an
old
sombre
house
and
from
his
windows
he
could
look
into
the
disused
distillery
or
upwards
along
the
shallow
river
on
which
Dublin
is
built
.
The
lofty
walls
of
his
uncarpeted
room
were
free
from
pictures
.
He
had
himself
bought
every
article
of
furniture
in
the
room
:
a
black
iron
bedstead
,
an
iron
washstand
,
four
cane
chairs
,
a
clothes-rack
,
a
coal-scuttle
,
a
fender
and
irons
and
a
square
table
on
which
lay
a
double
desk
.
A
bookcase
had
been
made
in
an
alcove
by
means
of
shelves
of
white
wood
.
The
bed
was
clothed
with
white
bedclothes
and
a
black
and
scarlet
rug
covered
the
foot
.
A
little
hand-mirror
hung
above
the
washstand
and
during
the
day
a
white-shaded
lamp
stood
as
the
sole
ornament
of
the
mantelpiece
.
The
books
on
the
white
wooden
shelves
were
arranged
from
below
upwards
according
to
bulk
.
A
complete
Wordsworth
stood
at
one
end
of
the
lowest
shelf
and
a
copy
of
the
Maynooth
Catechism
,
sewn
into
the
cloth
cover
of
a
notebook
,
stood
at
one
end
of
the
top
shelf
.
Writing
materials
were
always
on
the
desk
.
In
the
desk
lay
a
manuscript
translation
of
Hauptmann
's
Michael
Kramer
,
the
stage
directions
of
which
were
written
in
purple
ink
,
and
a
little
sheaf
of
papers
held
together
by
a
brass
pin
.
In
these
sheets
a
sentence
was
inscribed
from
time
to
time
and
,
in
an
ironical
moment
,
the
headline
of
an
advertisement
for
Bile
Beans
had
been
pasted
on
to
the
first
sheet
.
On
lifting
the
lid
of
the
desk
a
faint
fragrance
escaped
--
the
fragrance
of
new
cedarwood
pencils
or
of
a
bottle
of
gum
or
of
an
overripe
apple
which
might
have
been
left
there
and
forgotten
.
Mr.
Duffy
abhorred
anything
which
betokened
physical
or
mental
disorder
.
A
medival
doctor
would
have
called
him
saturnine
.
His
face
,
which
carried
the
entire
tale
of
his
years
,
was
of
the
brown
tint
of
Dublin
streets
.
On
his
long
and
rather
large
head
grew
dry
black
hair
and
a
tawny
moustache
did
not
quite
cover
an
unamiable
mouth
.
His
cheekbones
also
gave
his
face
a
harsh
character
;
but
there
was
no
harshness
in
the
eyes
which
,
looking
at
the
world
from
under
their
tawny
eyebrows
,
gave
the
impression
of
a
man
ever
alert
to
greet
a
redeeming
instinct
in
others
but
often
disappointed
.
He
lived
at
a
little
distance
from
his
body
,
regarding
his
own
acts
with
doubtful
side-glasses
.
He
had
an
odd
autobiographical
habit
which
led
him
to
compose
in
his
mind
from
time
to
time
a
short
sentence
about
himself
containing
a
subject
in
the
third
person
and
a
predicate
in
the
past
tense
.
He
never
gave
alms
to
beggars
and
walked
firmly
,
carrying
a
stout
hazel
.
