Дублінці

Araby

           Ifoundmyselfinabighallgirdledathalfitsheightbyagallery.Nearlyallthestallswereclosedandthegreaterpartofthehallwasindarkness.Irecognisedasilencelikethatwhichpervadesachurchafteraservice.Iwalkedintothecentreofthebazaartimidly.Afewpeopleweregatheredaboutthestallswhichwerestillopen.Beforeacurtain,overwhichthewordsCafeChantantwerewrittenincolouredlamps,twomenwerecountingmoneyonasalver.Ilistenedtothefallofthecoins.

           RememberingwithdifficultywhyIhadcomeIwentovertooneofthestallsandexaminedporcelainvasesandfloweredteasets.Atthedoorofthestallayoungladywastalkingandlaughingwithtwoyounggentlemen.IremarkedtheirEnglishaccentsandlistenedvaguelytotheirconversation.

           “O,Ineversaidsuchathing!”

           “O,butyoudid!”

           “O,butIdidn’t!”

           “Didn’tshesaythat?”

           “Yes.Iheardher.”

           “0,there’sa...fib!”

           ObservingmetheyoungladycameoverandaskedmedidIwishtobuyanything.Thetoneofhervoicewasnotencouraging;sheseemedtohavespokentomeoutofasenseofduty.Ilookedhumblyatthegreatjarsthatstoodlikeeasternguardsateithersideofthedarkentrancetothestallandmurmured:

           “No,thankyou.”

           Theyoungladychangedthepositionofoneofthevasesandwentbacktothetwoyoungmen

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Roboto Lora
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