Дублинцы

Grace

           

           “I’‘ery‘ucho’ligedtoyou,sir,”saidtheinjuredman.

           “Notatall.”

           “‘antwehavealittle...?”

           “Notnow.Notnow.”

           Thethreemenleftthebarandthecrowdsiftedthroughthedoorsintothelaneway.Themanagerbroughttheconstabletothestairstoinspectthesceneoftheaccident.Theyagreedthatthegentlemanmusthavemissedhisfooting.Thecustomersreturnedtothecounterandacuratesetaboutremovingthetracesofbloodfromthefloor.

           WhentheycameoutintoGraftonStreet,Mr.Powerwhistledforanoutsider.Theinjuredmansaidagainaswellashecould.

           “I’‘ery‘ucho’ligedtoyou,sir.Ihopewe’ll‘eetagain.‘yna’eisKernan.”

           Theshockandtheincipientpainhadpartlysoberedhim.

           “Don’tmentionit,”saidtheyoungman.

           Theyshookhands.Mr.Kernanwashoistedontothecarand,whileMr.Powerwasgivingdirectionstothecarman,heexpressedhisgratitudetotheyoungmanandregrettedthattheycouldnothavealittledrinktogether.

           “Anothertime,”saidtheyoungman.

           ThecardroveofftowardsWestmorelandStreet.AsitpassedBallastOfficetheclockshowedhalf-pastnine.Akeeneastwindhitthem,blowingfromthemouthoftheriver.Mr.Kernanwashuddledtogetherwithcold.Hisfriendaskedhimtotellhowtheaccidenthadhappened.

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