Дублінці
Eveline
Butinhernewhome,inadistantunknowncountry,itwouldnotbelikethat.Thenshewouldbemarried—she,Eveline.Peoplewouldtreatherwithrespectthen.Shewouldnotbetreatedashermotherhadbeen.Evennow,thoughshewasovernineteen,shesometimesfeltherselfindangerofherfather’sviolence.Sheknewitwasthatthathadgivenherthepalpitations.WhentheyweregrowinguphehadnevergoneforherlikeheusedtogoforHarryandErnest,becauseshewasagirlbutlatterlyhehadbeguntothreatenherandsaywhathewoulddotoheronlyforherdeadmother’ssake.Andnoshehadnobodytoprotecther.ErnestwasdeadandHarry,whowasinthechurchdecoratingbusiness,wasnearlyalwaysdownsomewhereinthecountry.Besides,theinvariablesquabbleformoneyonSaturdaynightshadbeguntowearyherunspeakably.Shealwaysgaveherentirewages—sevenshillings—andHarryalwayssentupwhathecouldbutthetroublewastogetanymoneyfromherfather.Hesaidsheusedtosquanderthemoney,thatshehadnohead,thathewasn’tgoingtogiveherhishard-earnedmoneytothrowaboutthestreets,andmuchmore,forhewasusuallyfairlybadonSaturdaynight.IntheendhewouldgiveherthemoneyandaskherhadsheanyintentionofbuyingSunday’sdinner.Thenshehadtorushoutasquicklyasshecouldanddohermarketing,holdingherblackleatherpursetightlyinherhandassheelbowedherwaythroughthecrowdsandreturninghomelateunderherloadofprovisions.