Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 3
Thepriestenteredtheboxandwashidden.Twopenitentsroseandenteredtheconfessionalateitherside.Thewoodenslidewasdrawnbackandthefaintmurmurofavoicetroubledthesilence.
Hisbloodbegantomurmurinhisveins,murmuringlikeasinfulcitysummonedfromitssleeptohearitsdoom.Littleflakesoffirefellandpowderyashesfellsoftly,alightingonthehousesofmen.Theystirred,wakingfromsleep,troubledbytheheatedair.
Theslidewasshotback.Thepenitentemergedfromthesideofthebox.Thefarthersidewasdrawn.Awomanenteredquietlyanddeftlywherethefirstpenitenthadknelt.Thefaintmurmurbeganagain.
Hecouldstillleavethechapel.Hecouldstandup,putonefootbeforetheotherandwalkoutsoftlyandthenrun,run,runswiftlythroughthedarkstreets.Hecouldstillescapefromtheshame.Haditbeenanyterriblecrimebutthatonesin!Haditbeenmurder!Littlefieryflakesfellandtouchedhimatallpoints,shamefulthoughts,shamefulwords,shamefulacts.Shamecoveredhimwhollylikefineglowingashesfallingcontinually.Tosayitinwords!Hissoul,stiflingandhelpless,wouldceasetobe.
Theslidewasshotback.Apenitentemergedfromthefarthersideofthebox.Thenearslidewasdrawn.Apenitententeredwheretheotherpenitenthadcomeout.Asoftwhisperingnoisefloatedinvaporouscloudletsoutofthebox.Itwasthewoman:softwhisperingcloudlets,softwhisperingvapour,whisperingandvanishing.