Портрет художника в юности
Chapter 5
Thelanebehindtheterracewaswaterloggedandashewentdownitslowly,choosinghisstepsamidheapsofwetrubbish,heheardamadnunscreechinginthenuns’madhousebeyondthewall.
—Jesus!OJesus!Jesus!
Heshookthesoundoutofhisearsbyanangrytossofhisheadandhurriedon,stumblingthroughthemoulderingoffal,hisheartalreadybittenbyanacheofloathingandbitterness.Hisfather’swhistle,hismother’smutterings,thescreechofanunseenmaniacweretohimnowsomanyvoicesoffendingandthreateningtohumbletheprideofhisyouth.Hedrovetheirechoesevenoutofhisheartwithanexecration;but,ashewalkeddowntheavenueandfeltthegreymorninglightfallingabouthimthroughthedrippingtreesandsmeltthestrangewildsmellofthewetleavesandbark,hissoulwasloosedofhermiseries.
Therain-ladentreesoftheavenueevokedinhim,asalways,memoriesofthegirlsandwomenintheplaysofGerhartHauptmann;andthememoryoftheirpalesorrowsandthefragrancefallingfromthewetbranchesmingledinamoodofquietjoy.
