Дублінці
The Dead
MaryJanesettleddownquietlytohersupperbutAuntKateandAuntJuliawerestilltoddlingroundthetable,walkingoneachother’sheels,gettingineachother’swayandgivingeachotherunheededorders.Mr.BrownebeggedofthemtositdownandeattheirsuppersandsodidGabrielbuttheysaidtherewastimeenough,sothat,atlast,FreddyMalinsstoodupand,capturingAuntKate,plumpedherdownonherchairamidgenerallaughter.
WheneveryonehadbeenwellservedGabrielsaid,smiling:
“Now,ifanyonewantsalittlemoreofwhatvulgarpeoplecallstuffinglethimorherspeak.”
AchorusofvoicesinvitedhimtobeginhisownsupperandLilycameforwardwiththreepotatoeswhichshehadreservedforhim.
“Verywell,”saidGabrielamiably,ashetookanotherpreparatorydraught,“kindlyforgetmyexistence,ladiesandgentlemen,forafewminutes.”
HesettohissupperandtooknopartintheconversationwithwhichthetablecoveredLily’sremovaloftheplates.ThesubjectoftalkwastheoperacompanywhichwasthenattheTheatreRoyal.Mr.BartellD’Arcy,thetenor,adark—complexionedyoungmanwithasmartmoustache,praisedveryhighlytheleadingcontraltoofthecompanybutMissFurlongthoughtshehadarathervulgarstyleofproduction.FreddyMalinssaidtherewasaNegrochieftainsinginginthesecondpartoftheGaietypantomimewhohadoneofthefinesttenorvoiceshehadeverheard.
