Портрет художника в юности

Chapter 1

           FatherDolanwillbeintomorrow.

           Hepokedoneoftheboysinthesidewithhispandybat,saying:

           You,boy!WhenwillFatherDolanbeinagain?

           Tomorrow,sir,saidTomFurlong’svoice.

           Tomorrowandtomorrowandtomorrow,saidtheprefectofstudies.Makeupyourmindsforthat.EverydayFatherDolan.Writeaway.You,boy,whoareyou?

           Stephen’sheartjumpedsuddenly.

           Dedalus,sir.

           Whyareyounotwritingliketheothers?

           Imy

           Hecouldnotspeakwithfright.

           Whyishenotwriting,FatherArnall?

           Hebrokehisglasses,saidFatherArnall,andIexemptedhimfromwork.

           Broke?WhatisthisIhear?Whatisthisyournameis!saidtheprefectofstudies.

           Dedalus,sir.

           Outhere,Dedalus.Lazylittleschemer.Iseeschemerinyourface.Wheredidyoubreakyourglasses?

           Stephenstumbledintothemiddleoftheclass,blindedbyfearandhaste.

           Wheredidyoubreakyourglasses?repeatedtheprefectofstudies.

           Thecinder-path,sir.

           Hoho!Thecinder-path!criedtheprefectofstudies.Iknowthattrick.

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Roboto Lora
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