Page:A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Huebsch 1916).djvu/245

 other first? The first morning we met you asked me to show you the way to the matriculation class, putting a very strong stress on the first syllable. You remember? Then you used to address the jesuits as father, you remember? I ask myself about you: Is he as innocent as his speech?—

—I'm a simple person—said Davin.—You know that. When you told me that night in Harcourt Street those things about your private life, honest to God, Stevie, I was not able to eat my dinner. I was quite bad. I was awake a long time that night. Why did you tell me those things?—

—Thanks—said Stephen.—You mean I am a monster.—

—No—said Davin—But I wish you had not told me.—

A tide began to surge beneath the calm surface of Stephen's friendliness.

—This race and this country and this life produced me—he said.—I shall express myself as I am.—

—Try to be one of us—repeated Davin.—In heart you are an Irishman but your pride is too powerful.—

—My ancestors threw off their language and took another—Stephen said.—They allowed a handful of foreigners to subject them. Do you fancy I am going to pay in my own life and person debts they made? What for?—

—For our freedom—said Davin.

—No honourable and sincere man—said Stephen—has given up to you his life and his youth and his affections from the days of Tone to those of Parnell, but you sold him to the enemy or failed him in need or reviled