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474 Dubliners (Signet Classics)
keep away from that Browne, because he s not
a bad fellow, really.
He was trembling now with annoyance. Why
did she seem so abstracted? He did not know
how he could begin. Was she annoyed, too,
about something? If she would only turn to him
or come to him of her own accord! To take her
as she was would be brutal. No, he must see
some ardour in her eyes first. He longed to be
master of her strange mood.
 When did you lend him the pound? she
asked, after a pause.
Gabriel strove to restrain himself from break-
ing out into brutal language about the sottish
Malins and his pound. He longed to cry to her
from his soul, to crush her body against his, to
overmaster her. But he said:
 O, at Christmas, when he opened that little
Christmas-card shop in Henry Street.
http://booksiread.org 475
He was in such a fever of rage and desire
that he did not hear her come from the window.
She stood before him for an instant, looking at
him strangely. Then, suddenly raising herself
on tiptoe and resting her hands lightly on his
shoulders, she kissed him.
 You are a very generous person, Gabriel,
she said.
Gabriel, trembling with delight at her sud-
den kiss and at the quaintness of her phrase,
put his hands on her hair and began smooth-
ing it back, scarcely touching it with his fingers.
The washing had made it fine and brilliant. His
heart was brimming over with happiness. Just
when he was wishing for it she had come to him
of her own accord. Perhaps her thoughts had
been running with his. Perhaps she had felt the
impetuous desire that was in him, and then the
yielding mood had come upon her. Now that
476 Dubliners (Signet Classics)
she had fallen to him so easily, he wondered
why he had been so diffident.
He stood, holding her head between his hands.
Then, slipping one arm swiftly about her body
and drawing her towards him, he said softly:
 Gretta, dear, what are you thinking about?
She did not answer nor yield wholly to his
arm. He said again, softly:
 Tell me what it is, Gretta. I think I know
what is the matter. Do I know?
She did not answer at once. Then she said
in an outburst of tears:
 O, I am thinking about that song, The Lass
of Aughrim.
She broke loose from him and ran to the bed
and, throwing her arms across the bed-rail, hid
her face. Gabriel stood stockstill for a moment
in astonishment and then followed her. As he
passed in the way of the cheval-glass he caught
http://booksiread.org 477
sight of himself in full length, his broad, well-
filled shirt-front, the face whose expression al-
ways puzzled him when he saw it in a mirror,
and his glimmering gilt-rimmed eyeglasses. He
halted a few paces from her and said:
 What about the song? Why does that make
you cry?
She raised her head from her arms and dried
her eyes with the back of her hand like a child.
A kinder note than he had intended went into
his voice.
 Why, Gretta? he asked.
 I am thinking about a person long ago who
used to sing that song.
 And who was the person long ago? asked
Gabriel, smiling.
 It was a person I used to know in Galway
when I was living with my grandmother, she
said.
478 Dubliners (Signet Classics)
The smile passed away from Gabriel s face.
A dull anger began to gather again at the back
of his mind and the dull fires of his lust began
to glow angrily in his veins.
 Someone you were in love with? he asked
ironically.
 It was a young boy I used to know, she
answered,  named Michael Furey. He used to
sing that song, The Lass of Aughrim. He was
very delicate.
Gabriel was silent. He did not wish her to
think that he was interested in this delicate
boy.
 I can see him so plainly, she said, after a
moment.  Such eyes as he had: big, dark eyes!
And such an expression in them  an expres-
sion!
 O, then, you are in love with him? said
Gabriel.
http://booksiread.org 479
 I used to go out walking with him, she said,
 when I was in Galway.
A thought flew across Gabriel s mind.
 Perhaps that was why you wanted to go to
Galway with that Ivors girl? he said coldly.
She looked at him and asked in surprise:
 What for?
Her eyes made Gabriel feel awkward. He
shrugged his shoulders and said:
 How do I know? To see him, perhaps.
She looked away from him along the shaft of
light towards the window in silence.
 He is dead, she said at length.  He died
when he was only seventeen. Isn t it a terrible
thing to die so young as that?
 What was he? asked Gabriel, still ironi-
cally.
 He was in the gasworks, she said.
Gabriel felt humiliated by the failure of his
480 Dubliners (Signet Classics)
irony and by the evocation of this figure from
the dead, a boy in the gasworks. While he had
been full of memories of their secret life together,
full of tenderness and joy and desire, she had
been comparing him in her mind with another. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]