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Главная
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- Авторы
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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 219/241
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How
could
he
hit
their
conscience
or
how
cast
his
shadow
over
the
imaginations
of
their
daughters
,
before
their
squires
begat
upon
them
,
that
they
might
breed
a
race
less
ignoble
than
their
own
?
And
under
the
deepened
dusk
he
felt
the
thoughts
and
desires
of
the
race
to
which
he
belonged
flitting
like
bats
across
the
dark
country
lanes
,
under
trees
by
the
edges
of
streams
and
near
the
pool-mottled
bogs
.
A
woman
had
waited
in
the
doorway
as
Davin
had
passed
by
at
night
and
,
offering
him
a
cup
of
milk
,
had
all
but
wooed
him
to
her
bed
;
for
Davin
had
the
mild
eyes
of
one
who
could
be
secret
.
But
him
no
woman
's
eyes
had
wooed
.
His
arm
was
taken
in
a
strong
grip
and
Cranly
's
voice
said
:
--
Let
us
eke
go
.
They
walked
southward
in
silence
.
Then
Cranly
said
:
--
That
blithering
idiot
,
Temple
!
I
swear
to
Moses
,
do
you
know
,
that
I
'll
be
the
death
of
that
fellow
one
time
.
But
his
voice
was
no
longer
angry
and
Stephen
wondered
was
he
thinking
of
her
greeting
to
him
under
the
porch
.
They
turned
to
the
left
and
walked
on
as
before
.
When
they
had
gone
on
so
for
some
time
Stephen
said
:
--
Cranly
,
I
had
an
unpleasant
quarrel
this
evening
.
--
With
your
people
?
Cranly
asked
.
