Портрет художника в юности

Chapter 1

           

           StephenliftedhiseyesinwonderandsawforamomentFatherDolan’swhite-greynotyoungface,hisbaldywhite-greyheadwithfluffatthesidesofit,thesteelrimsofhisspectaclesandhisno-colouredeyeslookingthroughtheglasses.Whydidhesayheknewthattrick?

           Lazyidlelittleloafer!criedtheprefectofstudies.Brokemyglasses!Anoldschoolboytrick!Outwithyourhandthismoment!

           Stephenclosedhiseyesandheldoutintheairhistremblinghandwiththepalmupwards.Hefelttheprefectofstudiestouchitforamomentatthefingerstostraightenitandthentheswishofthesleeveofthesoutaneasthepandybatwasliftedtostrike.Ahotburningstingingtinglingblowliketheloudcrackofabrokenstickmadehistremblinghandcrumpletogetherlikealeafinthefire:andatthesoundandthepainscaldingtearsweredrivenintohiseyes.Hiswholebodywasshakingwithfright,hisarmwasshakingandhiscrumpledburninglividhandshooklikealooseleafintheair.Acrysprangtohislips,aprayertobeletoff.Butthoughthetearsscaldedhiseyesandhislimbsquiveredwithpainandfrightheheldbackthehottearsandthecrythatscaldedhisthroat.

           Otherhand!shoutedtheprefectofstudies.

           Stephendrewbackhismaimedandquiveringrightarmandheldouthislefthand.

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