Дублинцы
A Little Cloud
“Why,manalive,”saidIgnatiusGallaher,vehemently,“doyouknowwhatitis?I’veonlytosaythewordandtomorrowIcanhavethewomanandthecash.Youdon’tbelieveit?Well,Iknowit.Therearehundreds—whatamIsaying?—thousandsofrichGermansandJews,rottenwithmoney,that’donlybetooglad....Youwaitawhilemyboy.SeeifIdon’tplaymycardsproperly.WhenIgoaboutathingImeanbusiness,Itellyou.Youjustwait.”
Hetossedhisglasstohismouth,finishedhisdrinkandlaughedloudly.Thenhelookedthoughtfullybeforehimandsaidinacalmertone:
“ButI’minnohurry.Theycanwait.Idon’tfancytyingmyselfuptoonewoman,youknow.”
Heimitatedwithhismouththeactoftastingandmadeawryface.
“Mustgetabitstale,Ishouldthink,”hesaid.
LittleChandlersatintheroomoffthehall,holdingachildinhisarms.TosavemoneytheykeptnoservantbutAnnie’syoungsisterMonicacameforanhourorsointhemorningandanhourorsointheeveningtohelp.ButMonicahadgonehomelongago.Itwasaquartertonine.LittleChandlerhadcomehomelateforteaand,moreover,hehadforgottentobringAnniehometheparcelofcoffeefromBewley’s.Ofcourseshewasinabadhumourandgavehimshortanswers.
