Дублінці
The Dead
Isn’titaterriblethingtodiesoyoungasthat?”
“Whatwashe?”askedGabriel,stillironically.
“Hewasinthegasworks,”shesaid.
Gabrielfelthumiliatedbythefailureofhisironyandbytheevocationofthisfigurefromthedead,aboyinthegasworks.Whilehehadbeenfullofmemoriesoftheirsecretlifetogether,fulloftendernessandjoyanddesire,shehadbeencomparinghiminhermindwithanother.Ashamefulconsciousnessofhisownpersonassailedhim.Hesawhimselfasaludicrousfigure,actingasapennyboyforhisaunts,anervous,well-meaningsentimentalist,oratingtovulgariansandidealisinghisownclownishlusts,thepitiablefatuousfellowhehadcaughtaglimpseofinthemirror.Instinctivelyheturnedhisbackmoretothelightlestshemightseetheshamethatburneduponhisforehead.
Hetriedtokeepuphistoneofcoldinterrogation,buthisvoicewhenhespokewashumbleandindifferent.
“IsupposeyouwereinlovewiththisMichaelFurey,Gretta,”hesaid.
“Iwasgreatwithhimatthattime,”shesaid.
Hervoicewasveiledandsad.Gabriel,feelingnowhowvainitwouldbetotrytoleadherwhitherhehadpurposed,caressedoneofherhandsandsaid,alsosadly:
“Andwhatdidhedieofsoyoung,Gretta?Consumption,wasit?”
“Ithinkhediedforme,”sheanswered.
