Дублінці
Ivy Day in the Committee Room
“O,butIknowitforafact,”saidMr.Henchy.“They’reCastlehacks....Idon’tsayHynes....No,damnit,Ithinkhe’sastrokeabovethat....Butthere’sacertainlittlenoblemanwithacock-eye—youknowthepatriotI’malludingto?”
Mr.O’Connornodded.
“There’salinealdescendantofMajorSirrforyouifyoulike!O,theheart’sbloodofapatriot!That’safellownowthat’dsellhiscountryforfourpence—ay—andgodownonhisbendedkneesandthanktheAlmightyChristhehadacountrytosell.”
Therewasaknockatthedoor.
“Comein!”saidMr.Henchy.
Apersonresemblingapoorclergymanorapooractorappearedinthedoorway.Hisblackclothesweretightlybuttonedonhisshortbodyanditwasimpossibletosaywhetherheworeaclergyman’scollaroralayman’s,becausethecollarofhisshabbyfrock-coat,theuncoveredbuttonsofwhichreflectedthecandlelight,wasturnedupabouthisneck.Heworearoundhatofhardblackfelt.Hisface,shiningwithraindrops,hadtheappearanceofdampyellowcheesesavewheretworosyspotsindicatedthecheekbones.Heopenedhisverylongmouthsuddenlytoexpressdisappointmentandatthesametimeopenedwidehisverybrightblueeyestoexpresspleasureandsurprise.
“OFatherKeon!”saidMr.Henchy,jumpingupfromhischair.
