Дублінці
The Dead
Shehadtakenoffherhatandcloakandwasstandingbeforealargeswingingmirror,unhookingherwaist.Gabrielpausedforafewmoments,watchingher,andthensaid:
“Gretta!”
Sheturnedawayfromthemirrorslowlyandwalkedalongtheshaftoflighttowardshim.HerfacelookedsoseriousandwearythatthewordswouldnotpassGabriel’slips.No,itwasnotthemomentyet.
“Youlookedtired,”hesaid.
“Iamalittle,”sheanswered.
“Youdon’tfeelillorweak?”
“No,tired:that’sall.”
Shewentontothewindowandstoodthere,lookingout.Gabrielwaitedagainandthen,fearingthatdiffidencewasabouttoconquerhim,hesaidabruptly:
“Bytheway,Gretta!”
“Whatisit?”
“YouknowthatpoorfellowMalins?”hesaidquickly.
“Yes.Whatabouthim?”
“Well,poorfellow,he’sadecentsortofchap,afterall,”continuedGabrielinafalsevoice.“HegavemebackthatsovereignIlenthim,andIdidn’texpectit,really.It’sapityhewouldn’tkeepawayfromthatBrowne,becausehe’snotabadfellow,really.”
Hewastremblingnowwithannoyance.Whydidsheseemsoabstracted?Hedidnotknowhowhecouldbegin.Wassheannoyed,too,aboutsomething?Ifshewouldonlyturntohimorcometohimofherownaccord!Totakeherasshewaswouldbebrutal.
