Дублінці
The Dead
”
SheturnedasiftoappealtothegoodsenseoftheothersagainstarefractorychildwhileAuntJuliagazedinfrontofher,avaguesmileofreminiscenceplayingonherface.
“No,”continuedAuntKate,“shewouldn’tbesaidorledbyanyone,slavingthereinthatchoirnightandday,nightandday.Sixo’clockonChristmasmorning!Andallforwhat?”
“Well,isn’titforthehonourofGod,AuntKate?”askedMaryJane,twistingroundonthepiano-stoolandsmiling.
AuntKateturnedfiercelyonhernieceandsaid:
“IknowallaboutthehonourofGod,MaryJane,butIthinkit’snotatallhonourableforthepopetoturnoutthewomenoutofthechoirsthathaveslavedtherealltheirlivesandputlittlewhipper-snappersofboysovertheirheads.IsupposeitisforthegoodoftheChurchifthepopedoesit.Butit’snotjust,MaryJane,andit’snotright.”
ShehadworkedherselfintoapassionandwouldhavecontinuedindefenceofhersisterforitwasasoresubjectwithherbutMaryJane,seeingthatallthedancershadcomeback,intervenedpacifically:
“Now,AuntKate,you’regivingscandaltoMr.Brownewhoisoftheotherpersuasion.”
AuntKateturnedtoMr.Browne,whowasgrinningatthisallusiontohisreligion,andsaidhastily:
“O,Idon’tquestionthepope’sbeingright.I’monlyastupidoldwomanandIwouldn’tpresumetodosuchathing.
