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- Джеймс Джойс
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"
Well
,
"
said
Gabriel
,
"
if
it
comes
to
that
,
you
know
,
Irish
is
not
my
language
.
"
Their
neighbours
had
turned
to
listen
to
the
cross
--
examination
.
Gabriel
glanced
right
and
left
nervously
and
tried
to
keep
his
good
humour
under
the
ordeal
which
was
making
a
blush
invade
his
forehead
.
"
And
have
n't
you
your
own
land
to
visit
,
"
continued
Miss
Ivors
,
"
that
you
know
nothing
of
,
your
own
people
,
and
your
own
country
?
"
"
0
,
to
tell
you
the
truth
,
"
retorted
Gabriel
suddenly
,
"
I
'm
sick
of
my
own
country
,
sick
of
it
!
"
"
Why
?
"
asked
Miss
Ivors
.
Gabriel
did
not
answer
for
his
retort
had
heated
him
.
"
Why
?
"
repeated
Miss
Ivors
.
They
had
to
go
visiting
together
and
,
as
he
had
not
answered
her
,
Miss
Ivors
said
warmly
:
"
Of
course
,
you
've
no
answer
.
"
Gabriel
tried
to
cover
his
agitation
by
taking
part
in
the
dance
with
great
energy
.
He
avoided
her
eyes
for
he
had
seen
a
sour
expression
on
her
face
.
But
when
they
met
in
the
long
chain
he
was
surprised
to
feel
his
hand
firmly
pressed
.
She
looked
at
him
from
under
her
brows
for
a
moment
quizzically
until
he
smiled
.
Then
,
just
as
the
chain
was
about
to
start
again
,
she
stood
on
tiptoe
and
whispered
into
his
ear
:
