Портрет художника в юності
Chapter 4
Theprideofthatdimimagebroughtbacktohismindthedignityoftheofficehehadrefused.Allthroughhisboyhoodhehadmuseduponthatwhichhehadsooftenthoughttobehisdestinyandwhenthemomenthadcomeforhimtoobeythecallhehadturnedaside,obeyingawaywardinstinct.Nowtimelaybetween:theoilsofordinationwouldneveranointhisbody.Hehadrefused.Why?
HeturnedseawardfromtheroadatDollymountandashepassedontothethinwoodenbridgehefelttheplanksshakingwiththetrampofheavilyshodfeet.AsquadofchristianbrotherswasonitswaybackfromtheBullandhadbeguntopass,twobytwo,acrossthebridge.Soonthewholebridgewastremblingandresounding.Theuncouthfacespassedhimtwobytwo,stainedyelloworredorlividbythesea,and,ashestrovetolookatthemwitheaseandindifference,afaintstainofpersonalshameandcommiserationrosetohisownface.Angrywithhimselfhetriedtohidehisfacefromtheireyesbygazingdownsidewaysintotheshallowswirlingwaterunderthebridgebuthestillsawareflectionthereinoftheirtop-heavysilkhatsandhumbletape-likecollarsandloosely-hangingclericalclothes.
—BrotherHickey.BrotherQuaid.BrotherMacArdle.BrotherKeogh.
