Дублінці
Eveline
Home!Shelookedroundtheroom,reviewingallitsfamiliarobjectswhichshehaddustedonceaweekforsomanyyears,wonderingwhereonearthallthedustcamefrom.Perhapsshewouldneverseeagainthosefamiliarobjectsfromwhichshehadneverdreamedofbeingdivided.AndyetduringallthoseyearsshehadneverfoundoutthenameofthepriestwhoseyellowingphotographhungonthewallabovethebrokenharmoniumbesidethecolouredprintofthepromisesmadetoBlessedMargaretMaryAlacoque.Hehadbeenaschoolfriendofherfather.Wheneverheshowedthephotographtoavisitorherfatherusedtopassitwithacasualword:
“HeisinMelbournenow.”
Shehadconsentedtogoaway,toleaveherhome.Wasthatwise?Shetriedtoweigheachsideofthequestion.Inherhomeanywayshehadshelterandfood;shehadthosewhomshehadknownallherlifeabouther.Ocourseshehadtoworkhard,bothinthehouseandatbusiness.WhatwouldtheysayofherintheStoreswhentheyfoundoutthatshehadrunawaywithafellow?Sayshewasafool,perhaps;andherplacewouldbefilledupbyadvertisement.MissGavanwouldbeglad.Shehadalwayshadanedgeonher,especiallywhenevertherewerepeoplelistening.
“MissHill,don’tyouseetheseladiesarewaiting?”
“Looklively,MissHill,please.”
ShewouldnotcrymanytearsatleavingtheStores.
