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Joyce, James, 1882-1941

"A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man"

But him no woman's eyes had wooed.
His arm was taken in a strong grip and Cranly's voice said:
--Let us eke go.
They walked southward in silence. Then Cranly said:
--That blithering idiot, Temple! I swear to Moses, do you know, that
I'll be the death of that fellow one time.
But his voice was no longer angry and Stephen wondered was he thinking
of her greeting to him under the porch.
They turned to the left and walked on as before. When they had gone on
so for some time Stephen said:
--Cranly, I had an unpleasant quarrel this evening.
--With your people? Cranly asked.
--With my mother.
--About religion?
--Yes, Stephen answered.
After a pause Cranly asked:
--What age is your mother?
--Not old, Stephen said. She wishes me to make my easter duty.
--And will you?
--I will not, Stephen said.
--Why not? Cranly said.
--I will not serve, answered Stephen.
--That remark was made before, Cranly said calmly.
--It is made behind now, said Stephen hotly.
Cranly pressed Stephen's arm, saying:
--Go easy, my dear man. You're an excitable bloody man, do you know.
He laughed nervously as he spoke and, looking up into Stephen's face
with moved and friendly eyes, said:
--Do you know that you are an excitable man?
--I daresay I am, said Stephen, laughing also.


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