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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Портрет художника в юности
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- Стр. 74/241
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But
she
did
not
answer
the
question
and
said
:
--
I
thought
it
was
Josephine
.
I
thought
you
were
Josephine
,
Stephen
.
And
,
repeating
this
several
times
,
she
fell
to
laughing
feebly
.
He
was
sitting
in
the
midst
of
a
children
's
party
at
Harold
's
Cross
.
His
silent
watchful
manner
had
grown
upon
him
and
he
took
little
part
in
the
games
.
The
children
,
wearing
the
spoils
of
their
crackers
,
danced
and
romped
noisily
and
,
though
he
tried
to
share
their
merriment
,
he
felt
himself
a
gloomy
figure
amid
the
gay
cocked
hats
and
sunbonnets
.
But
when
he
had
sung
his
song
and
withdrawn
into
a
snug
corner
of
the
room
he
began
to
taste
the
joy
of
his
loneliness
.
The
mirth
,
which
in
the
beginning
of
the
evening
had
seemed
to
him
false
and
trivial
,
was
like
a
soothing
air
to
him
,
passing
gaily
by
his
senses
,
hiding
from
other
eyes
the
feverish
agitation
of
his
blood
while
through
the
circling
of
the
dancers
and
amid
the
music
and
laughter
her
glance
travelled
to
his
corner
,
flattering
,
taunting
,
searching
,
exciting
his
heart
.
In
the
hall
the
children
who
had
stayed
latest
were
putting
on
their
things
:
the
party
was
over
.
She
had
thrown
a
shawl
about
her
and
,
as
they
went
together
towards
the
tram
,
sprays
of
her
fresh
warm
breath
flew
gaily
above
her
cowled
head
and
her
shoes
tapped
blithely
on
the
glassy
road
.
It
was
the
last
tram
.
The
lank
brown
horses
knew
it
and
shook
their
bells
to
the
clear
night
in
admonition
.
The
conductor
talked
with
the
driver
,
both
nodding
often
in
the
green
light
of
the
lamp
.
On
the
empty
seats
of
the
tram
were
scattered
a
few
coloured
tickets
.
No
sound
of
footsteps
came
up
or
down
the
road
.
No
sound
broke
the
peace
of
the
night
save
when
the
lank
brown
horses
rubbed
their
noses
together
and
shook
their
bells
.
They
seemed
to
listen
,
he
on
the
upper
step
and
she
on
the
lower
.
She
came
up
to
his
step
many
times
and
went
down
to
hers
again
between
their
phrases
and
once
or
twice
stood
close
beside
him
for
some
moments
on
the
upper
step
,
forgetting
to
go
down
,
and
then
went
down
.
His
heart
danced
upon
her
movements
like
a
cork
upon
a
tide
.
He
heard
what
her
eyes
said
to
him
from
beneath
their
cowl
and
knew
that
in
some
dim
past
,
whether
in
life
or
revery
,
he
had
heard
their
tale
before
.
He
saw
her
urge
her
vanities
,
her
fine
dress
and
sash
and
long
black
stockings
,
and
knew
that
he
had
yielded
to
them
a
thousand
times
.
Yet
a
voice
within
him
spoke
above
the
noise
of
his
dancing
heart
,
asking
him
would
he
take
her
gift
to
which
he
had
only
to
stretch
out
his
hand
.
And
he
remembered
the
day
when
he
and
Eileen
had
stood
looking
into
the
hotel
grounds
,
watching
the
waiters
running
up
a
trail
of
bunting
on
the
flagstaff
and
the
fox
terrier
scampering
to
and
fro
on
the
sunny
lawn
and
how
,
all
of
a
sudden
,
she
had
broken
out
into
a
peal
of
laughter
and
had
run
down
the
sloping
curve
of
the
path
.
Now
,
as
then
,
he
stood
listlessly
in
his
place
,
seemingly
a
tranquil
watcher
of
the
scene
before
him
.
--
She
too
wants
me
to
catch
hold
of
her
,
he
thought
.
That
's
why
she
came
with
me
to
the
tram
.
I
could
easily
catch
hold
Of
her
when
she
comes
up
to
my
step
:
nobody
is
looking
.
I
could
hold
her
and
kiss
her
.
