Дублинцы
The Dead
“Browneiseverywhere,”saidAuntKate,loweringhervoice.
MaryJanelaughedathertone.
“Really,”shesaidarchly,“heisveryattentive.”
“Hehasbeenlaidonherelikethegas,”saidAuntKateinthesametone,“allduringtheChristmas.”
Shelaughedherselfthistimegood-humouredlyandthenaddedquickly:
“Buttellhimtocomein,MaryJane,andclosethedoor.Ihopetogoodnesshedidn’thearme.”
Atthatmomentthehall-doorwasopenedandMr.Brownecameinfromthedoorstep,laughingasifhisheartwouldbreak.Hewasdressedinalonggreenovercoatwithmockastrakhancuffsandcollarandworeonhisheadanovalfurcap.Hepointeddownthesnow-coveredquayfromwherethesoundofshrillprolongedwhistlingwasbornein.
“TeddywillhaveallthecabsinDublinout,”hesaid.
Gabrieladvancedfromthelittlepantrybehindtheoffice,strugglingintohisovercoatand,lookingroundthehall,said:
“Grettanotdownyet?”
“She’sgettingonherthings,Gabriel,”saidAuntKate.
“Who’splayingupthere?”askedGabriel.
“Nobody.They’reallgone.”
“Ono,AuntKate,”saidMaryJane.“BartellD’ArcyandMissO’Callaghanaren’tgoneyet.”
“Someoneisfoolingatthepianoanyhow,”saidGabriel.
