Портрет художника в юности
Chapter 5
Glynncoughedandsaidgently,holdingbackwithdifficultythenervoustitterinhisvoiceandmovinghisumbrellaateveryword:
—And,asyouremark,ifitisthus,Iaskemphaticallywhencecomesthisthusness.
—Becausethechurchiscruellikealloldsinners,Templesaid.
—Areyouquiteorthodoxonthatpoint,Temple?Dixonsaidsuavely.
—SaintAugustinesaysthataboutunbaptizedchildrengoingtohell,Templeanswered,becausehewasacrueloldsinnertoo.
—Ibowtoyou,Dixonsaid,butIhadtheimpressionthatlimboexistedforsuchcases.
—Don’targuewithhim,Dixon,Cranlysaidbrutally.Don’ttalktohimorlookathim.Leadhimhomewithasuganthewayyou’dleadableatinggoat.
—Limbo!Templecried.That’safineinventiontoo.Likehell.
—Butwiththeunpleasantnessleftout,Dixonsaid.Heturnedsmilingtotheothersandsaid:
—IthinkIamvoicingtheopinionsofallpresentinsayingsomuch.
-Youare,Glynnsaidinafirmtone.OnthatpointIrelandisunited.
Hestrucktheferruleofhisumbrellaonthestonefloorofthecolonnade.
—Hell,Templesaid.IcanrespectthatinventionofthegreyspouseofSatan.HellisRoman,likethewallsoftheRomans,strongandugly.