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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 173/241
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As
they
crossed
the
inner
hall
,
the
dean
of
studies
was
in
the
act
of
escaping
from
the
student
with
whom
he
had
been
conversing
.
He
stood
at
the
foot
of
the
staircase
,
a
foot
on
the
lowest
step
,
his
threadbare
soutane
gathered
about
him
for
the
ascent
with
womanish
care
,
nodding
his
head
often
and
repeating
:
--
Not
a
doubt
of
it
,
Mr
Hackett
!
Very
fine
!
Not
a
doubt
of
it
!
I
n
the
middle
of
the
hall
the
prefect
of
the
college
sodality
was
speaking
earnestly
,
in
a
soft
querulous
voice
,
with
a
boarder
.
As
he
spoke
he
wrinkled
a
little
his
freckled
brow
and
bit
,
between
his
phrases
,
at
a
tiny
bone
pencil
.
--
I
hope
the
matric
men
will
all
come
.
The
first
arts
'
men
are
pretty
sure
.
Second
arts
,
too
.
We
must
make
sure
of
the
newcomers
.
Temple
bent
again
across
Cranly
,
as
they
were
passing
through
the
doorway
,
and
said
in
a
swift
whisper
:
--
Do
you
know
that
he
is
a
married
man
?
he
was
a
married
man
before
they
converted
him
.
He
has
a
wife
and
children
somewhere
.
By
hell
,
I
think
that
's
the
queerest
notion
I
ever
heard
!
Eh
?
His
whisper
trailed
off
into
sly
cackling
laughter
.
The
moment
they
were
through
the
doorway
Cranly
seized
him
rudely
by
the
neck
and
shook
him
,
saying
:
--
You
flaming
floundering
fool
!
I
'll
take
my
dying
bible
there
is
n't
a
bigger
bloody
ape
,
do
you
know
,
than
you
in
the
whole
flaming
bloody
world
!
Temple
wriggled
in
his
grip
,
laughing
still
with
sly
content
,
while
Cranly
repeated
flatly
at
every
rude
shake
:
