001:009;00@@@@@| <THE SISTERS>
001:009;01['  ]| There was no$2$ hope for$4$ him this time: it was the third   
001:009;02['  ]| stroke.  Night after night I had passed the house (it was vacation
001:009;03['  ]| time) and studied the lighted square of window: and night
001:009;04['  ]| after night I had found it lighted in$4$ the same way, faintly and
001:009;05['  ]| evenly.  
001:009;05@a   | If he was dead, 
001:009;05[A  ]| I thought, 
001:009;05@a   | I would see the reflection of
001:009;06['  ]| candles on$4$ the darkened blind for$3$ I knew that$3$ two candles
001:009;07['  ]| must be set at the head of a corpse.  He had often said to$4$ me:
001:009;08@b   | I am not long for$4$ this world, 
001:009;08['  ]| and I had thought his words idle. 
001:009;09['  ]| Now I knew they were true.  Every night as I gazed up$5$ at the
001:009;10['  ]| window I said softly to$4$ myself the word 
001:009;10@a   | paralysis.  
001:009;10[A  ]| It had always
001:009;11['  ]| sounded strangely in$4$ my ears, like$4$ the word gnomon in$4$
001:009;12['  ]| the Euclid and the word simony in$4$ the Catechism.  But now it
001:009;13['  ]| sounded to$4$ me like$4$ the name of some maleficent and sinful being. 
001:009;14['  ]| It filled me with fear, and yet I longed to$9$ be nearer to$4$ it
001:009;15['  ]| and look upon$4$ its deadly work. 
001:009;16['  ]| Old Cotter was sitting at the fire, smoking, when I came
001:009;17['  ]| downstairs to$4$ supper.  While my aunt was ladling out my stirabout
001:009;18['  ]| he said, as if returning to$4$ some former remark of his:
001:009;19[E  ]| ~~ No$7$, I would not say he was exactly ~~~ but there was
001:010;01[E  ]| something queer ~~~ there was something uncanny about 
001:010;02[E  ]| him.  I will$1$ tell you my opinion ~~~. 
001:010;03['  ]| He began to$9$ puff at his pipe, no$2$ doubt arranging his opinion
001:010;04['  ]| in$4$ his mind.  
001:010;04@a   | Tiresome old fool  
001:010;04[A  ]| When we knew him first he
001:010;05['  ]| used to$9$ be rather interesting, talking of faints and worms; but I
001:010;06['  ]| soon grew tired of him and his endless stories about the distillery. 
001:010;07[E  ]| ~~ I have my own theory about it, 
001:010;07['  ]| he said.  
001:010;07[E  ]| I think it was one
001:010;08[E  ]| of those ~~~ peculiar cases ~~~.  But it is hard to$9$ say ~~~. 
001:010;09['  ]| He began to$9$ puff again at his pipe without giving us his
001:010;10['  ]| theory.  My uncle saw me staring and said to$4$ me:
001:010;11[C  ]| ~~ Well, so$3$ your old friend is gone, you will$1$ be sorry to$9$ hear. 
001:010;12[A  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ ? 
001:010;12['  ]| said I. 
001:010;13[C  ]| ~~ Father*Flynn. 
001:010;14[A  ]| ~~ Is he dead ?
001:010;15[C  ]| ~~ Mr*Cotter here has just told us.  He was passing by$4$ the
001:010;16[C  ]| house. 
001:010;17['  ]| I knew that$3$ I was under observation so$3$ I continued eating as
001:010;18['  ]| if the news had not interested me.  My uncle explained to$4$ old
001:010;19['  ]| Cotter. 
001:010;20[C  ]| ~~ The youngster and he were great friends.  The old chap
001:010;21[C  ]| taught him a great deal, mind you; and they say he had a great
001:010;22[C' ]| wish for$4$ him. 
001:010;23[D  ]| ~~ God have mercy on$4$ his soul, 
001:010;23['  ]| said my aunt piously. 
001:010;24['  ]| Old Cotter looked at me for$4$ a while.  I felt that$3$ his little
001:010;25['  ]| beady black eyes were examining me but I would not satisfy
001:010;26['  ]| him by$4$ looking up$5$ from my plate.  He returned to$4$ his pipe and
001:010;27['  ]| finally spat rudely into the grate. 
001:010;28[E  ]| ~~ I would not like$1$ children of mine, 
001:010;28['  ]| he said, 
001:010;28[E  ]| to$9$ have too much
001:010;29[E  ]| to$9$ say to$4$ a man like$4$ that$6#2$. 
001:010;30[D  ]| ~~ How do you mean, Mr*Cotter ? 
001:010;30['  ]| asked my aunt. 
001:010;31[E  ]| ~~ What I mean is, 
001:010;31['  ]| said old Cotter, 
001:010;31[E  ]| it is bad for$4$ children. 
001:010;32[E  ]| My idea is: let a young lad run about and play with young
001:010;33[E  ]| lads of his own age and not be ~~~ Am I right, Jack ?
001:011;01[C  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is my principle, too, 
001:011;01['  ]| said my uncle.  
001:011;01[C  ]| Let him learn
001:011;02[C  ]| to$9$ box his corner.  That$6#2$ is what I am always saying to$4$ that$6#2$ Rosicrucian
001:011;03[C  ]| there: take exercise.  Why, when I was a nipper every
001:011;04[C  ]| morning of my life I had a cold bath, winter and summer. 
001:011;05[C  ]| And that$6#2$ is what stands to$4$ me now.  Education is all very fine
001:011;06[C  ]| and large ~~~.  Mr*Cotter might take a pick of that$6#2$ leg of
001:011;07[C  ]| mutton, 
001:011;07['  ]| he added to$4$ my aunt. 
001:011;08[E  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, not for$4$ me, 
001:011;08['  ]| said old Cotter. 
001:011;09['  ]| My aunt brought the dish from the safe and laid it on$4$ the
001:011;10['  ]| table. 
001:011;11[D  ]| ~~ But why do you think it is not good for$4$ children, Mr*Cotter ?
001:011;12['  ]| she asked. 
001:011;13[E  ]| ~~ It is bad for$4$ children, 
001:011;13['  ]| said old Cotter, 
001:011;13[E  ]| because their minds
001:011;14[E  ]| are so$5#1$ impressionable.  When children see things like$4$ that$6#2$, you
001:011;15[E  ]| know, it has an effect ~~~. 
001:011;16['  ]| I crammed my mouth with stirabout for$4$ fear I might give
001:011;17['  ]| utterance to$4$ my anger.  
001:011;17@a   | Tiresome old red-nosed imbecile 
001:011;18['  ]| It was late when I fell asleep.  Though I was angry with old
001:011;19['  ]| Cotter for$4$ alluding to$4$ me as a child I puzzled my head to$9$ extract
001:011;20['  ]| meaning from his unfinished sentences.  In$4$ the dark of my
001:011;21['  ]| room I imagined that$3$ I saw again the heavy grey face of the
001:011;22['  ]| paralytic.  I drew the blankets over my head and tried to$9$ think
001:011;23['  ]| of Christmas.  But the grey face still followed me.  It murmured;
001:011;24['  ]| and I understood that$3$ it desired to$9$ confess something.  I felt my
001:011;25['  ]| soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there
001:011;26['  ]| again I found it waiting for$4$ me.  It began to$9$ confess to$4$ me in$4$
001:011;27['  ]| a murmuring voice and I wondered why it smiled continually
001:011;28['  ]| and why the lips were so$5#1$ moist with spittle.  But then I remembered
001:011;29['  ]| that$3$ it had died of paralysis and I felt that$3$ I too was smiling
001:011;30['  ]| feebly as if to$9$ absolve the simoniac of his sin. 
001:011;31['  ]| The next morning after breakfast I went down to$9$ look at the
001:011;32['  ]| little house in$4$ Great*Britain*Street.  It was an unassuming shop,
001:011;33['  ]| registered under the vague name of Drapery#.  The drapery
001:011;34['  ]| consisted mainly of children's bootees and umbrellas; and on$4$
001:012;01['  ]| ordinary days a notice used to$9$ hang in$4$ the window, saying:
001:012;02@z   | Umbrellas Re-covered.  
001:012;02['  ]| No$2$ notice was visible now for$3$ the shutters
001:012;03['  ]| were up$5$.  A crape bouquet was tied to$4$ the door-knocker
001:012;04['  ]| with ribbon.  Two poor women and a telegram boy were reading
001:012;05['  ]| the card pinned on$4$ the crape.  I also approached and read:
001:012;06[Z  ]| July 1st, 1895
001:012;07[Z  ]| The Rev%*James*Flynn (formerly of S%*Catherine's*Church,
001:012;08[Z  ]| Meath*Street), aged sixty-five years. 
001:012;09[Z  ]| R%*I%*P%*
001:012;10['  ]| The reading of the card persuaded me that$3$ he was dead
001:012;11['  ]| and I was disturbed to$9$ find myself at check.  Had he not been
001:012;12['  ]| dead I would have gone into the little dark room behind the
001:012;13['  ]| shop to$9$ find him sitting in$4$ his arm-chair by$4$ the fire, nearly
001:012;14['  ]| smothered in$4$ his great-coat.  Perhaps my aunt would have
001:012;15['  ]| given me a packet of High Toast for$4$ him and this present would
001:012;16['  ]| have roused him from his stupefied doze.  It was always I who$6#1$
001:012;17['  ]| emptied the packet into his black snuff-box for$3$ his hands trembled
001:012;18['  ]| too much to$9$ allow him to$9$ do this without spilling half
001:012;19['  ]| the snuff about the floor.  Even as he raised his large trembling
001:012;20['  ]| hand to$4$ his nose little clouds of smoke dribbled through his
001:012;21['  ]| fingers over the front of his coat.  It may have been these constant
001:012;22['  ]| showers of snuff which$6#1$ gave his ancient priestly garments
001:012;23['  ]| their green faded look for$3$ the red handkerchief, blackened, as
001:012;24['  ]| it always was, with the snuff-stains of a week, with which$6#1$ he
001:012;25['  ]| tried to$9$ brush away the fallen grains, was quite inefficacious. 
001:012;26['  ]| I wished to$9$ go in$5$ and look at him but I had not the courage
001:012;27['  ]| to$9$ knock.  I walked away slowly along the sunny side of the
001:012;28['  ]| street, reading all the theatrical advertisements in$4$ the shopwindows
001:012;29['  ]| as I went.  I found it strange that$3$ neither I nor the day
001:012;30['  ]| seemed in$4$ a mourning mood and I felt even annoyed at discovering
001:012;31['  ]| in$4$ myself a sensation of freedom as if I had been
001:012;32['  ]| freed from something by$4$ his death.  I wondered at this for$3$, as
001:013;01['  ]| my uncle had said the night before, 
001:013;01@c   | he had taught me a great
001:013;02@c   | deal.  
001:013;02['  ]| He had studied in$4$ the Irish college in$4$ Rome and he had
001:013;03['  ]| taught me to$9$ pronounce Latin properly.  He had told me stories
001:013;04['  ]| about the catacombs and about Napoleon Bonaparte, and he
001:013;05['  ]| had explained to$4$ me the meaning of the different ceremonies
001:013;06['  ]| of the Mass and of the different vestments worn by$4$ the priest. 
001:013;07['  ]| Sometimes he had amused himself by$4$ putting difficult questions
001:013;08['  ]| to$4$ me, asking me 
001:013;08@a   | what one should do in$4$ certain circumstances
001:013;09@a   | or whether such and such sins were mortal or venial or only
001:013;10@a   | imperfections.  
001:013;10['  ]| His questions showed me how complex and mysterious
001:013;11['  ]| were certain institutions of the Church which$6#1$ I had always
001:013;12['  ]| regarded as the simplest acts.  The duties of the priest towards
001:013;13['  ]| the Eucharist and towards the secrecy of the confessional
001:013;14['  ]| seemed so$5#1$ grave to$4$ me that$3$ 
001:013;14@a   | I wondered how anybody
001:013;15@a   | had ever found in$4$ himself the courage to$9$ undertake them; 
001:013;15['  ]| and
001:013;16['  ]| I was not surprised when he told me that$3$ 
001:013;16@b   | the fathers of the
001:013;17@b   | Church had written books as thick as the Post*Office*Directory
001:013;18@b   | and as closely printed as the law notices in$4$ the newspaper,
001:013;19@b   | elucidating all these intricate questions.  
001:013;19['  ]| Often when I thought
001:013;20['  ]| of this I could make no$2$ answer or only a very foolish and halting
001:013;21['  ]| one upon$4$ which$6#1$ he used to$9$ smile and nod his head twice or
001:013;22['  ]| thrice.  Sometimes he used to$9$ put me through the responses of
001:013;23['  ]| the Mass which$6#1$ he had made me learn by$4$ heart; and, as I pattered,
001:013;24['  ]| he used to$9$ smile pensively and nod his head, now and
001:013;25['  ]| then pushing huge pinches of snuff up$4$ each nostril alternately. 
001:013;26['  ]| When he smiled he used to$9$ uncover his big discoloured teeth
001:013;27['  ]| and let his tongue lie upon$4$ his lower lip ~~ a habit which$6#1$ had
001:013;28['  ]| made me feel uneasy in$4$ the beginning of our acquaintance before
001:013;29['  ]| I knew him well. 
001:013;30['  ]| As I walked along in$4$ the sun I remembered old Cotter's
001:013;31['  ]| words and tried to$9$ remember what had happened afterwards
001:013;32['  ]| in$4$ the dream.  I remembered that$3$ I had noticed long velvet curtains
001:013;33['  ]| and a swinging lamp of antique fashion.  I felt that$3$ 
001:013;33@a   | I had
001:013;34@a   | been very far away, in$4$ some land where the customs were
001:014;01@a   | strange ~~ in$4$ Persia, 
001:014;01['  ]| I thought ~~~.  But I could not remember
001:014;02['  ]| the end of the dream. 
001:014;03['  ]| In$4$ the evening my aunt took me with her to$9$ visit the house
001:014;04['  ]| of mourning.  It was after sunset; but the window-panes of the
001:014;05['  ]| houses that$6#1$ looked to$4$ the west reflected the tawny gold of a
001:014;06['  ]| great bank of clouds.  Nannie received us in$4$ the hall; and, as it
001:014;07['  ]| would have been unseemly to$9$ have shouted at her, my aunt
001:014;08['  ]| shook hands with her for$4$ all.  The old woman pointed upwards
001:014;09['  ]| interrogatively and, on$4$ my aunt's nodding, proceeded to$9$ toil
001:014;10['  ]| up$4$ the narrow staircase before us, her bowed head being
001:014;11['  ]| scarcely above the level of the banister-rail.  At the first landing
001:014;12['  ]| she stopped and beckoned us forward encouragingly towards
001:014;13['  ]| the open door of the dead-room.  My aunt went in$5$ and
001:014;14['  ]| the old woman, seeing that$3$ I hesitated to$9$ enter, began to$9$ beckon
001:014;15['  ]| to$4$ me again repeatedly with her hand. 
001:014;16['  ]| I went in$5$ on$4$ tiptoe.  The room through the lace end of the
001:014;17['  ]| blind was suffused with dusky golden light amid which$6#1$ the
001:014;18['  ]| candles looked like$4$ pale thin flames.  He had been coffined. 
001:014;19['  ]| Nannie gave the lead and we three knelt down at the foot of
001:014;20['  ]| the bed.  I pretended to$9$ pray but I could not gather my
001:014;21['  ]| thoughts because the old woman's mutterings distracted me.  I
001:014;22['  ]| noticed how clumsily her skirt was hooked at the back and
001:014;23['  ]| how the heels of her cloth boots were trodden down all to$4$ one
001:014;24['  ]| side.  The fancy came to$4$ me that$3$ 
001:014;24@a   | the old priest was smiling as
001:014;25@a   | he lay there in$4$ his coffin. 
001:014;26@a   | But no$7$.  
001:014;26['  ]| When we rose and went up$5$ to$4$ the head of the bed I
001:014;27['  ]| saw that$3$ he was not smiling.  There he lay, solemn and copious,
001:014;28['  ]| vested as for$4$ the altar, his large hands loosely retaining a chalice. 
001:014;29['  ]| His face was very truculent, grey and massive, with black
001:014;30['  ]| cavernous nostrils and circled by$4$ a scanty white fur.  There
001:014;31['  ]| was a heavy odour in$4$ the room ~~ the flowers. 
001:014;32['  ]| We blessed ourselves and came away.  In$4$ the little room
001:014;33['  ]| downstairs we found Eliza seated in$4$ his arm-chair in$4$ state.  I
001:014;34['  ]| groped my way towards my usual chair in$4$ the corner while
001:015;01['  ]| Nannie went to$4$ the sideboard and brought out a decanter of
001:015;02['  ]| sherry and some wine-glasses.  She set these on$4$ the table and
001:015;03['  ]| invited us to$9$ take a little glass of wine.  Then, at her sister's
001:015;04['  ]| bidding, she poured out the sherry into the glasses and passed
001:015;05['  ]| them to$4$ us.  She pressed me to$9$ take some cream crackers also
001:015;06['  ]| but I declined because I thought 
001:015;06@a   | I would make too much noise
001:015;07@a   | eating them.  
001:015;07['  ]| She seemed to$9$ be somewhat disappointed at my refusal
001:015;08['  ]| and went over quietly to$4$ the sofa where she sat down behind
001:015;09['  ]| her sister.  No*one spoke: we all gazed at the empty fireplace. 
001:015;10['  ]| My aunt waited until Eliza sighed and then said:
001:015;11[D  ]| ~~ Ah, well, he has gone to$4$ a better world. 
001:015;12['  ]| Eliza sighed again and bowed her head in$4$ assent.  My aunt
001:015;13['  ]| fingered the stem of her wine-glass before sipping a little. 
001:015;14[D  ]| ~~ Did he ~~~ peacefully ? 
001:015;14['  ]| she asked. 
001:015;15[F  ]| ~~ O, quite peacefully, ma'am, 
001:015;15['  ]| said Eliza.  
001:015;15[F  ]| You could not tell
001:015;16[F  ]| when the breath went out of him.  He had a beautiful death,
001:015;17[F  ]| God be praised. 
001:015;18[D  ]| ~~ And everything ~~~ ?
001:015;19[F  ]| ~~ Father*O'Rourke was in$5$ with him a Tuesday and anointed
001:015;20[F  ]| him and prepared him and all. 
001:015;21[D  ]| ~~ He knew then ?
001:015;22[F  ]| ~~ He was quite resigned. 
001:015;23[D  ]| ~~ He looks quite resigned, 
001:015;23['  ]| said my aunt. 
001:015;24[F  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is what the woman we had in$5$ to$9$ wash him said.  She
001:015;25[F  ]| said he just looked as if he was asleep, he looked that$6#2$ peaceful
001:015;26[F  ]| and resigned.  No*one would think he would make such a beautiful
001:015;27[F  ]| corpse. 
001:015;28[D  ]| ~~ Yes, indeed, 
001:015;28['  ]| said my aunt. 
001:015;29['  ]| She sipped a little more from her glass and said:
001:015;30[D  ]| ~~ Well, Miss*Flynn, at any rate it must be a great comfort
001:015;31[D  ]| for$4$ you to$9$ know that$3$ you did all you could for$4$ him.  You
001:015;32[D  ]| were both very kind to$4$ him, I must say. 
001:015;33['  ]| Eliza smoothed her dress over her knees. 
001:016;01[F  ]| ~~ Ah, poor James 
001:016;01['  ]| she said.  
001:016;01[F  ]| God knows we done all we
001:016;02[F  ]| could, as poor as we are ~~ we would not see him want anything
001:016;03[F  ]| while he was in$4$ it. 
001:016;04['  ]| Nannie had leaned her head against the sofa-pillow and
001:016;05['  ]| seemed about to$9$ fall asleep. 
001:016;06[F  ]| ~~ There is poor Nannie, 
001:016;06['  ]| said Eliza, looking at her, 
001:016;06[F  ]| she is wore
001:016;07[F  ]| out.  All the work we had, she and me, getting in$5$ the woman to$9$
001:016;08[F  ]| wash him and then laying him out and then the coffin and
001:016;09[F  ]| then arranging about the Mass in$4$ the chapel.  Only for$4$ Father*O'Rourke
001:016;10[F  ]| I do not know what we would have done at all.  It was him
001:016;11[F  ]| brought us all them flowers and them two candlesticks out of
001:016;12[F  ]| the chapel and wrote out the notice for$4$ the Freeman's*General
001:016;13[F  ]| and took charge of all the papers for$4$ the cemetery and poor
001:016;14[F  ]| James's insurance. 
001:016;15[D  ]| ~~ Was not that$6#2$ good of him ? 
001:016;15['  ]| said my aunt. 
001:016;16['  ]| Eliza closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. 
001:016;17[F  ]| ~~ Ah, there is no$2$ friends like$4$ the old friends, 
001:016;17['  ]| she said, 
001:016;17[F  ]| when
001:016;18[F  ]| all is said and done, no$2$ friends that$6#1$ a body can trust. 
001:016;19[D  ]| ~~ Indeed, that$6#2$ is true, 
001:016;19['  ]| said my aunt.  
001:016;19[D  ]| And I am sure now that$3$
001:016;20[D  ]| he has gone to$4$ his eternal reward he will$1$ not  forget you and all your
001:016;21[D  ]| kindness to$4$ him. 
001:016;22[F  ]| ~~ Ah, poor James 
001:016;22['  ]| said Eliza.  
001:016;22[F  ]| He was no$2$ great trouble to$4$ us. 
001:016;23[F  ]| You would not hear him in$4$ the house any more than now.  Still,
001:016;24[F  ]| I know he has gone and all to$4$ that$6#2$ ~~~. 
001:016;25[D  ]| ~~ It is when it is all over that$3$ you will$1$ miss him, 
001:016;25['  ]| said my aunt. 
001:016;26[F  ]| ~~ I know that$6#2$, 
001:016;26['  ]| said Eliza.  
001:016;26[F  ]| I will$1$ not be bringing him in$4$ his
001:016;27[F  ]| cup of beef-tea any more, nor you, ma'am, sending him his
001:016;28[F  ]| snuff.  Ah, poor James 
001:016;29['  ]| She stopped, as if she were communing with the past and
001:016;30['  ]| then said shrewdly:
001:016;31[F  ]| ~~ Mind you, I noticed there was something queer coming
001:016;32[F  ]| over him latterly.  Whenever I would bring in$5$ his soup to$4$ him there
001:016;33[F  ]| I would find him with his breviary fallen to$4$ the floor, lying back in$4$
001:016;34[F  ]| the chair and his mouth open. 
001:017;01['  ]| She laid a finger against her nose and frowned: then she 
001:017;02['  ]| continued:
001:017;03[F  ]| ~~ But still and all he kept on$5$ saying that$3$ before the summer
001:017;04[F  ]| was over he would go out for$4$ a drive one fine day just to$9$ see the
001:017;05[F  ]| old house again where we were all born down in$4$ Irishtown and
001:017;06[F  ]| take me and Nannie with him.  If we could only get one of them
001:017;07[F  ]| new-fangled carriages that$6#1$ makes no$2$ noise that$6#1$ Father*O'Rourke
001:017;08[F  ]| told him about ~~ them with the rheumatic wheels
001:017;09[F  ]| ~~ for$4$ the day cheap, he said, at Johnny*Rush's over the way
001:017;10[F  ]| there and drive out the three of us together of a Sunday evening. 
001:017;11[F  ]| He had his mind set on$4$ that$6#2$ ~~~.  Poor James 
001:017;12[D  ]| ~~ The Lord have mercy on$4$ his soul 
001:017;12['  ]| said my aunt. 
001:017;13['  ]| Eliza took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes with it. 
001:017;14['  ]| Then she put it back again in$4$ her pocket and gazed into the
001:017;15['  ]| empty grate for$4$ some time without speaking. 
001:017;16[F  ]| ~~ He was too scrupulous always, 
001:017;16['  ]| she said.  
001:017;16[F  ]| The duties of
001:017;17[F  ]| the priesthood was too much for$4$ him.  And then his life was,
001:017;18[F  ]| you might say, crossed. 
001:017;19[D  ]| ~~ Yes, 
001:017;19['  ]| said my aunt.  
001:017;19[D  ]| He was a disappointed man.  You could
001:017;20[D  ]| see that$6#2$. 
001:017;21['  ]| A silence took possession of the little room and, under cover
001:017;22['  ]| of it, I approached the table and tasted my sherry and then returned
001:017;23['  ]| quietly to$4$ my chair in$4$ the corner.  Eliza seemed to$9$ have
001:017;24['  ]| fallen into a deep revery.  We waited respectfully for$4$ her to$9$
001:017;25['  ]| break the silence: and after a long pause she said slowly:
001:017;26[F  ]| ~~ It was that$6#2$ chalice he broke ~~~.  That$6#2$ was the beginning
001:017;27[F  ]| of it.  Of course, they say it was all right, that$3$ it contained nothing,
001:017;28[F  ]| I mean.  But still ~~~.  They say it was the boy's fault. 
001:017;29[F  ]| But poor James was so$5#1$ nervous, God be merciful to$4$ him 
001:017;30[D  ]| ~~ And was that$6#2$ it ? 
001:017;30['  ]| said my aunt.  
001:017;30[D  ]| I heard something ~~~. 
001:017;31['  ]| Eliza nodded. 
001:017;32[F  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ affected his mind, 
001:017;32['  ]| she said.  
001:017;32[F  ]| After that$6#2$ he began to$9$
001:017;33[F  ]| mope by$4$ himself, talking to$4$ no*one and wandering about by$4$
001:017;34[F  ]| himself.  So$3$ one night he was wanted for$5$ to$9$ go on$4$ a call and they
001:018;01[F  ]| could not find him anywhere.  They looked high up$5$ and low 
001:018;02[F  ]| down; and still they could not see a sight of him anywhere.  So$3$
001:018;03[F  ]| then the clerk suggested to$9$ try the chapel.  So$3$ then they got
001:018;04[F  ]| the keys and opened the chapel and the clerk and Father*O'Rourke
001:018;05[F  ]| and another priest that$6#1$ was there brought in$5$ a light
001:018;06[F  ]| for$3$ to$9$ look for$4$ him ~~~.  And what do you think but there he
001:018;07[F  ]| was, sitting up$5$ by$4$ himself in$4$ the dark in$4$ his confession-box,
001:018;08[F  ]| wide-awake and laughing-like softly to$4$ himself ?
001:018;09['  ]| She stopped suddenly as if to$9$ listen.  I too listened; but there
001:018;10['  ]| was no$2$ sound in$4$ the house: and I knew that$3$ the old priest was
001:018;11['  ]| lying still in$4$ his coffin as we had seen him, solemn and truculent
001:018;12['  ]| in$4$ death, an idle chalice on$4$ his breast. 
001:018;13['  ]| Eliza resumed:
001:018;14[F  ]| ~~ Wide-awake and laughing-like to$4$ himself ~~~.  So$3$ then,
001:018;15[F  ]| of course, when they saw that$6#2$, that$6#2$ made them think that$3$ there
001:018;16[F  ]| was something gone wrong with him ~~~. 
002:019;00@@@@@| <AN ENCOUNTER>
002:019;01['  ]| It was Joe*Dillon who$6#1$ introduced the Wild*West to$4$ us.  He 
002:019;02['  ]| had a little library made up$5$ of old numbers of The*Union*Jack,
002:019;03['  ]| Pluck# and The*Halfpenny*Marvel.  Every evening after school
002:019;04['  ]| we met in$4$ his back garden and arranged Indian battles.  He and
002:019;05['  ]| his fat young brother Leo the idler held the loft of  the stable
002:019;06['  ]| while we tried to$9$ carry it by$4$ storm; or we fought a pitched
002:019;07['  ]| battle on$4$ the grass.  But, however well we fought, we never won
002:019;08['  ]| siege or battle and all our bouts ended with Joe*Dillon's war
002:019;09['  ]| dance of victory.  His parents went to$4$ eight-o'clock mass every
002:019;10['  ]| morning in$4$ Gardiner*Street and the peaceful odour of Mrs*Dillon
002:019;11['  ]| was prevalent in$4$ the hall of the house.  But he played too
002:019;12['  ]| fiercely for$4$ us who$6#1$ were younger and more timid.  He looked
002:019;13['  ]| like$4$ some kind of an Indian when he capered round the garden,
002:019;14['  ]| an old tea-cosy on$4$ his head, beating a tin with his fist and yelling:
002:019;15[B  ]| ~~ Ya  yaka, yaka, yaka 
002:019;16['  ]| Everyone was incredulous when it was reported that$3$ he
002:019;17['  ]| had a vocation for$4$ the priesthood.  Nevertheless it was true. 
002:020;01['  ]| A spirit of unruliness diffused itself among us and, under 
002:020;02['  ]| its influence, differences of culture and constitution were
002:020;03['  ]| waived.  We banded ourselves together, some boldly, some in$4$
002:020;04['  ]| jest and some almost in$4$ fear: and of the number of these latter,
002:020;05['  ]| the reluctant Indians who$6#1$ were afraid to$9$ seem studious or lacking
002:020;06['  ]| in$4$ robustness, I was one.  The adventures related in$4$ the literature
002:020;07['  ]| of the Wild West were remote from my nature but, at
002:020;08['  ]| least, they opened doors of escape.  I liked better some American
002:020;09['  ]| detective stories which$6#1$ were traversed from time to$4$ time
002:020;10['  ]| by$4$ unkempt fierce and beautiful girls.  Though there was
002:020;11['  ]| nothing wrong in$4$ these stories and though their intention was
002:020;12['  ]| sometimes literary they were circulated secretly at school. 
002:020;13['  ]| One day when Father*Butler was hearing the four pages of Roman
002:020;14['  ]| History clumsy Leo*Dillon was discovered with a copy of
002:020;15['  ]| The*Halfpenny*Marvel. 
002:020;16[C  ]| ~~ This page or this page ? This page ? Now, Dillon, up$5$ 
002:020;17[Z  ]| Hardly had the day ~~~ 
002:020;17[C  ]| Go on$5$  What day ? 
002:020;17[Z  ]| Hardly had the
002:020;18[Z  ]| day dawned ~~~ 
002:020;18[C  ]| Have you studied it ? What have you there
002:020;19[C  ]| in$4$ your pocket ?
002:020;20['  ]| Everyone's heart palpitated as Leo*Dillon handed up$5$ the paper
002:020;21['  ]| and everyone assumed an innocent face.  Father*Butler
002:020;22['  ]| turned over the pages, frowning. 
002:020;23[C  ]| ~~ What is this rubbish ? 
002:020;23['  ]| he said.  
002:020;23[C  ]| The*Apache*Chief Is this
002:020;24[C  ]| what you read instead of studying your Roman History ? Let
002:020;25[C  ]| me not find any more of this wretched stuff in$4$ this college.  The
002:020;26[C  ]| man who$6#1$ wrote it, I suppose, was some wretched scribbler that$6#1$
002:020;27[C  ]| writes these things for$4$ a drink.  I am surprised at boys like$4$ you,
002:020;28[C  ]| educated, reading such stuff.  I could 
002:020;29[C  ]| understand it if you were ~~  National*School boys.  Now,
002:020;30[C  ]| Dillon, I advise you strongly, get at your work or ~~
002:020;31['  ]| This rebuke during the sober hours of school paled much
002:020;32['  ]| of the glory of the Wild West for$4$ me and the confused
002:020;33['  ]| puffy face of Leo*Dillon awakened one of my consciences.
002:020;34['  ]| But when the restraining influence of the school was at a
002:021;01['  ]| distance I began to$9$ hunger again for$4$ wild sensations, for$4$ the
002:021;02['  ]| escape which$6#1$ those chronicles of disorder alone seemed to$9$ 
002:021;03['  ]| offer me.  The mimic warfare of the evening became at last
002:021;04['  ]| as wearisome to$4$ me as the routine of school in$4$ the morning
002:021;05['  ]| because I wanted real adventures to$9$ happen to$4$ myself.  
002:021;05@a   | But
002:021;06@a   | real adventures, 
002:021;06['  ]| I reflected, 
002:021;06@a   | do not happen to$4$ people who$6#1$
002:021;07@a   | remain at home:  they must be sought abroad.
002:021;08['  ]| The summer holidays were near at hand when I made up$5$
002:021;09['  ]| my mind to$9$ break out of the weariness of school-life for$4$ one
002:021;10['  ]| day at least.  With Leo*Dillon and a boy named Mahony I
002:021;11['  ]| planned a day's miching.  Each of us saved up$5$ sixpence.
002:021;12['  ]| We were to$9$ meet at ten in$4$ the morning on$4$ the Canal*Bridge.
002:021;13['  ]| Mahony's big sister was to$9$ write an excuse for$4$ him
002:021;14['  ]| and Leo*Dillon was to$9$ tell his brother to$9$ say he was sick.
002:021;15['  ]| We arranged to$9$ go along the Wharf*Road until we came to$4$
002:021;16['  ]| the ships, then to$9$ cross in$4$ the ferryboat and walk out to$9$
002:021;17['  ]| see the Pigeon*House.  Leo*Dillon was afraid we might
002:021;18['  ]| meet Father*Butler or some*one out of the college; but
002:021;19['  ]| Mahony asked, very sensibly, 
002:021;19@e   | what would Father*Butler
002:021;20@e   | be doing out at the Pigeon*House.  
002:021;20['  ]| We were reassured:
002:021;21['  ]| and I brought the first stage of the plot to$4$ an end by$4$ collecting
002:021;22['  ]| sixpence from the other two, at the same time
002:021;23['  ]| showing them my own sixpence.  When we were making
002:021;24['  ]| the last arrangements on$4$ the eve we were all vaguely
002:021;25['  ]| excited.  We shook hands, laughing, and Mahony said:
002:021;26[E  ]| ~~ Till to-morrow, mates.
002:021;27['  ]| That$6#2$ night I slept badly.  In$4$ the morning I was first-comer
002:021;28['  ]| to$4$ the bridge as I lived nearest.  I hid my books in$4$ the
002:021;29['  ]| long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where
002:021;30['  ]| nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank.  It
002:021;31['  ]| was a mild sunny morning in$4$ the first week of June.  I sat
002:021;32['  ]| up$5$ on$4$ the coping of the bridge admiring my frail canvas
002:021;33['  ]| shoes which$6#1$ I had diligently pipeclayed overnight and
002:021;34['  ]| watching the docile horses pulling a tramload of business
002:022;01['  ]| people up$4$ the hill.  All the branches of the tall trees which$6#1$
002:022;02['  ]| lined the mall were gay with little light green leaves and the
002:022;03['  ]| sunlight slanted through them on$5$ to$4$ the water.  The granite
002:022;04['  ]| stone of the bridge was beginning to$9$ be warm and I began
002:022;05['  ]| to$9$ pat it with my hands in$4$ time to$4$ an air in$4$ my head.  I was
002:022;06['  ]| very happy.
002:022;07['  ]| When I had been sitting there for$4$ five or ten minutes I
002:022;08['  ]| saw Mahony's grey suit approaching.  He came up$4$ the hill,
002:022;09['  ]| smiling, and clambered up$5$ beside me on$4$ the bridge.  While
002:022;10['  ]| we were waiting he brought out the catapult which$6#1$ bulged
002:022;11['  ]| from his inner pocket and explained some improvements
002:022;12['  ]| which$6#1$ he had made in$4$ it.  I asked him 
002:022;12@a   | why he had brought
002:022;13@a   | it 
002:022;13['  ]| and he told me 
002:022;13@e   | he had brought it to$9$ have some gas with
002:022;14@e   | the birds.  
002:022;14['  ]| Mahony used slang freely, and spoke of Father*Butler
002:022;15['  ]| as Bunsen*Burner.  We waited on$5$ for$4$ a quarter of
002:022;16['  ]| an hour more but still there was no$2$ sign of Leo*Dillon.
002:022;17['  ]| Mahony, at last, jumped down and said:
002:022;18[E  ]| ~~ Come along.  I knew Fatty would funk it.
002:022;19[A  ]| ~~ And his sixpence ~~ ?  
002:022;19['  ]| I said.
002:022;20[E  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is forfeit, 
002:022;20['  ]| said Mahony.  
002:022;20[E  ]| And so$5#1$ much the better
002:022;21[E  ]| for$4$ us ~~ a bob and a tanner instead of a bob.
002:022;22['  ]| We walked along the North*Strand*Road till we came
002:022;23['  ]| to$4$ the Vitriol*Works and then turned to$4$ the right along the
002:022;24['  ]| Wharf*Road.  Mahony began to$9$ play the Indian as soon as
002:022;25['  ]| we were out of public sight.  He chased a crowd of ragged
002:022;26['  ]| girls, brandishing his unloaded catapult and, when two
002:022;27['  ]| ragged boys began, out of chivalry, to$9$ fling stones at us, he
002:022;28['  ]| proposed that$3$ we should charge them.  I objected that$3$ 
002:022;28@a   | the
002:022;29@a   | boys were too small, 
002:022;29['  ]| and so$3$ we walked on$5$, the ragged troop
002:022;30['  ]| screaming after us:  
002:022;30[X  ]| \Swaddlers!  Swaddlers!\  
002:022;30['  ]| thinking that$3$ we
002:022;31['  ]| were Protestants because Mahony, who$6#1$ was dark-complexioned,
002:022;32['  ]| wore the silver badge of a cricket club in$4$ his
002:022;33['  ]| cap.  When we came to$4$ the Smoothing*Iron we arranged
002:022;34['  ]| a siege; but it was a failure because you must have at least
002:023;01['  ]| three.  We revenged ourselves on$4$ Leo*Dillon by$4$ saying
002:023;02@x   | what a funk he was and guessing how many he would get
002:023;03@x   | at three o'clock from Mr*Ryan.
002:023;04['  ]| We came then near the river.  We spent a long time
002:023;05['  ]| walking about the noisy streets flanked by$4$ high stone walls,
002:023;06['  ]| watching the working of cranes and engines and often being
002:023;07['  ]| shouted at for$4$ our immobility by$4$ the drivers of groaning
002:023;08['  ]| carts.  It was noon when we reached the quays and, as all
002:023;09['  ]| the labourers seemed to$9$ be eating their lunches, we bought
002:023;10['  ]| two big currant buns and sat down to$9$ eat them on$4$ some
002:023;11['  ]| metal piping beside the river.  We pleased ourselves with
002:023;12['  ]| the spectacle of Dublin's commerce ~~ the barges signalled
002:023;13['  ]| from far away by$4$ their curls of woolly smoke, the brown
002:023;14['  ]| fishing fleet beyond Ringsend, the big white sailing-vessel
002:023;15['  ]| which$6#1$ was being discharged on$4$ the opposite quay.  Mahony
002:023;16['  ]| said 
002:023;16@e   | it would be right skit to$9$ run away to$4$ sea on$4$ one of
002:023;17@e   | those big ships 
002:023;17['  ]| and even I, looking at the high masts, saw,
002:023;18['  ]| or imagined, the geography which$6#1$ had been scantily dosed
002:023;19['  ]| to$4$ me at school gradually taking substance under my eyes.
002:023;20['  ]| School and home seemed to$9$ recede from us and their influences
002:023;21['  ]| upon$4$ us seemed to$9$ wane.
002:023;22['  ]| We crossed the Liffey in$4$ the ferryboat, paying our toll to$9$ be
002:023;23['  ]| transported in$4$ the company of two labourers and a little Jew
002:023;24['  ]| with a bag.  We were serious to$4$ the point of solemnity, but once
002:023;25['  ]| during the short voyage our eyes met and we laughed.  When
002:023;26['  ]| we landed we watched the discharging of the graceful three-master
002:023;27['  ]| which$6#1$ we had observed from the other quay.  Some bystander
002:023;28['  ]| said that$3$ 
002:023;28@w   | she was a Norwegian vessel.  
002:023;28['  ]| I went to$4$ the
002:023;29['  ]| stern and tried to$9$ decipher the legend upon$4$ it but, failing to$9$ do
002:023;30['  ]| so$5#2$, I came back and examined the foreign sailors to$9$ see had any
002:023;31['  ]| of them green eyes for$3$ I had some confused notion ~~~.  The
002:023;32['  ]| sailors' eyes were blue and grey and even black.  The only
002:023;33['  ]| sailor whose eyes could have been called green was a tall man
002:023;34['  ]| who$6#1$ amused the crowd on$4$ the quay by$4$ calling out cheerfully
002:023;35['  ]| every time the planks fell:
002:023;36[W  ]| ~~ All right  All right 
002:023;37['  ]| When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into
002:023;38['  ]| Ringsend.  The day had grown sultry, and in$4$ the windows
002:023;39['  ]| of the grocers' shops musty biscuits lay bleaching.  We bought
002:024;01['  ]| some biscuits and chocolate which$6#1$ we ate sedulously as we 
002:024;02['  ]| wandered through the squalid streets where the families of the
002:024;03['  ]| fishermen live.  We could find no$2$ dairy and so$3$ we went into a
002:024;04['  ]| huckster's shop and bought a bottle of raspberry lemonade
002:024;05['  ]| each.  Refreshed by$4$ this, Mahony chased a cat down a lane, but
002:024;06['  ]| the cat escaped into a wide field.  We both felt rather tired and
002:024;07['  ]| when we reached the field we made at once for$4$ a sloping bank
002:024;08['  ]| over the ridge of which$6#1$ we could see the Dodder. 
002:024;09['  ]| It was too late and we were too tired to$9$ carry out our project
002:024;10['  ]| of visiting the Pigeon*House.  We had to$9$ be home before four
002:024;11['  ]| o'clock lest our adventure should be discovered.  Mahony
002:024;12['  ]| looked regretfully at his catapult and I had to$9$ suggest going
002:024;13['  ]| home by$4$ train before he regained any cheerfulness.  The sun
002:024;14['  ]| went in$5$ behind some clouds and left us to$4$ our jaded thoughts
002:024;15['  ]| and the crumbs of our provisions. 
002:024;16['  ]| There was nobody but ourselves in$4$ the field.  When we had
002:024;17['  ]| lain on$4$ the bank for$4$ some time without speaking I saw a man
002:024;18['  ]| approaching from the far end of the field.  I watched him lazily
002:024;19['  ]| as I chewed one of those green stems on$4$ which$6#1$ girls tell
002:024;20['  ]| fortunes.  He came along by$4$ the bank slowly.  He walked with
002:024;21['  ]| one hand upon$4$ his hip and in$4$ the other hand he held a stick
002:024;22['  ]| with which$6#1$ he tapped the turf lightly.  He was shabbily dressed
002:024;23['  ]| in$4$ a suit of greenish-black and wore what we used to$9$ call a
002:024;24['  ]| jerry hat with a high crown.  He seemed to$9$ be fairly old for$3$ his
002:024;25['  ]| moustache was ashen-grey.  When he passed at our feet he
002:024;26['  ]| glanced up$5$ at us quickly and then continued his way.  We followed
002:024;27['  ]| him with our eyes and saw that$3$ when he had gone on$5$
002:024;28['  ]| for$4$ perhaps fifty paces he turned about and began to$9$ retrace
002:024;29['  ]| his steps.  He walked towards us very slowly, always tapping
002:024;30['  ]| the ground with his stick, so$5#1$ slowly that$3$ I thought he was looking
002:024;31['  ]| for$4$ something in$4$ the grass. 
002:024;32['  ]| He stopped when he came level with us and bade us good-day. 
002:024;33['  ]| We answered him and he sat down beside us on$4$ the slope
002:024;34['  ]| slowly and with great care.  He began to$9$ talk of the weather,
002:025;01['  ]| saying that$3$ 
002:025;01@d   | it would be a very hot summer 
002:025;01['  ]| and adding that$3$ 
002:025;01@d   | the
002:025;02@d   | seasons had changed greatly since he was a boy ~~ a long time
002:025;03@d   | ago.  
002:025;03['  ]| He said that$3$ 
002:025;03@d   | the happiest time of one's life was undoubtedly
002:025;04@d   | one's schoolboy days and that$3$ he would give anything to$9$
002:025;05@d   | be young again.  
002:025;05['  ]| While he expressed these sentiments which$6#1$
002:025;06['  ]| bored us a little we kept silent.  Then he began to$9$ talk of school
002:025;07['  ]| and of books.  He asked us 
002:025;07@d   | whether we had read the poetry
002:025;08@d   | of Thomas*Moore or the works of Sir*Walter*Scott and Lord*Lytton.
002:025;09['  ]| I pretended that$3$ I had read every book he mentioned
002:025;10['  ]| so$3$ that$3$ in$4$ the end he said:
002:025;11[D  ]| ~~ Ah, I can see you are a bookworm like$4$ myself.  Now, 
002:025;11['  ]| he
002:025;12['  ]| added, pointing to$4$ Mahony who$6#1$ was regarding us with open
002:025;13['  ]| eyes, 
002:025;13[D  ]| he is different; he goes in$5$ for$4$ games. 
002:025;14['  ]| He said 
002:025;14@d   | he had all Sir*Walter*Scott's works and all Lord*Lytton's
002:025;15@d   | works at home and never tired of reading them.  Of
002:025;16@d   | course, 
002:025;16['  ]| he said, 
002:025;16@d   | there were some of Lord Lytton's works which$6#1$
002:025;17@d   | boys could not read.  
002:025;17['  ]| Mahony asked 
002:025;17@e   | why could not boys read them
002:025;18['  ]| ~~ a question which$6#1$ agitated and pained me because I was afraid
002:025;19['  ]| the man would think I was as stupid as Mahony.  The man, however,
002:025;20['  ]| only smiled.  I saw that$3$ he had great gaps in$4$ his mouth
002:025;21['  ]| between his yellow teeth.  Then he asked us 
002:025;21@d   | which$6#1$ of us had
002:025;22@d   | the most sweethearts.  
002:025;22['  ]| Mahony mentioned lightly that$3$ 
002:025;22@e   | he had
002:025;23@e   | three totties.  
002:025;23['  ]| The man asked me 
002:025;23@d   | how many had I.  
002:025;23['  ]| I answered
002:025;24['  ]| that$3$ 
002:025;24@a   | I had none.  
002:025;24['  ]| He did not believe me and said 
002:025;24@d   | he was sure I
002:025;25@d   | must have one.  
002:025;25['  ]| I was silent. 
002:025;26[E  ]| ~~ Tell us, 
002:025;26['  ]| said Mahony pertly to$4$ the man, 
002:025;26[E  ]| how many have
002:025;27[E  ]| you yourself ?
002:025;28['  ]| The man smiled as before and said that$3$ 
002:025;28@d   | when he was our age
002:025;29@d   | he had lots of sweethearts. 
002:025;30[D  ]| ~~ Every boy, 
002:025;30['  ]| he said, 
002:025;30[D  ]| has a little sweetheart. 
002:025;31['  ]| His attitude on$4$ this point struck me as strangely liberal in$4$
002:025;32['  ]| a man of his age.  In$4$ my heart I thought that$3$ what he said about
002:025;33['  ]| boys and sweethearts was reasonable.  But I disliked the words
002:025;34['  ]| in$4$ his mouth and I wondered why he shivered once or twice as
002:026;01['  ]| if he feared something or felt a sudden chill.  As he proceeded
002:026;02['  ]| I noticed that$3$ his accent was good.  He began to$9$ speak to$4$ us
002:026;03['  ]| about girls, saying 
002:026;03@d   | what nice soft hair they had and how soft
002:026;04@d   | their hands were and how all girls were not so$5#1$ good as they
002:026;05@d   | seemed to$9$ be if one only knew.  There was nothing he liked, 
002:026;05['  ]| he
002:026;06['  ]| said, 
002:026;06@d   | so$5#1$ much as looking at a nice young girl, at her nice white
002:026;07@d   | hands and her beautiful soft hair.  
002:026;07['  ]| He gave me the impression
002:026;08['  ]| that$3$ he was repeating something which$6#1$ he had learned by$4$ heart
002:026;09['  ]| or that$3$, magnetised by$4$ some words of his own speech, his
002:026;10['  ]| mind was slowly circling round and round in$4$ the same orbit. 
002:026;11['  ]| At times he spoke as if he were simply alluding to$4$ some fact
002:026;12['  ]| that$6#1$ everybody knew, and at times he lowered his voice and
002:026;13['  ]| spoke mysteriously as if he were telling us something secret
002:026;14['  ]| which$6#1$ he did not wish others to$9$ overhear.  He repeated his
002:026;15['  ]| phrases over and over again, varying them and surrounding
002:026;16['  ]| them with his monotonous voice.  I continued to$9$ gaze towards
002:026;17['  ]| the foot of the slope, listening to$4$ him. 
002:026;18['  ]| After a long while his monologue paused.  He stood up$5$
002:026;19['  ]| slowly, saying that$3$ 
002:026;19@d   | he had to$9$ leave us for$4$ a minute or so$5#2$, a few
002:026;20@d   | minutes, 
002:026;20['  ]| and, without changing the direction of my gaze, I
002:026;21['  ]| saw him walking slowly away from us towards the near end
002:026;22['  ]| of the field.  We remained silent when he had gone.  After a silence
002:026;23['  ]| of a few minutes I heard Mahony exclaim:
002:026;24[E  ]| ~~ I say Look what he is doing 
002:026;25['  ]| As I neither answered nor raised my eyes Mahony exclaimed
002:026;26['  ]| again:
002:026;27[E  ]| ~~ I say ~~~ He is a queer old josser
002:026;28[A  ]| ~~ In$4$ case he asks us for$4$ our names, 
002:026;28['  ]| I said, 
002:026;28[A  ]| let you be Murphy
002:026;29[A  ]| and I will$1$ be Smith. 
002:026;30['  ]| We said nothing further to$4$ each other.  I was still considering
002:026;31['  ]| whether I would go away or not when the man came back and
002:026;32['  ]| sat down beside us again.  Hardly had he sat down when Mahony,
002:026;33['  ]| catching sight of the cat which$6#1$ had escaped him, sprang
002:026;34['  ]| up$5$ and pursued her across the field.  The man and I watched
002:027;01['  ]| the chase.  The cat escaped once more and Mahony began to$9$
002:027;01['  ]| throw stones at the wall she had escaladed.  Desisting from this,
002:027;01['  ]| he began to$9$ wander about the far end of the field, aimlessly. 
002:027;01['  ]| After an interval the man spoke to$4$ me.  He said that$3$ 
002:027;01@d   | my
002:027;01@d   | friend was a very rough boy 
002:027;01['  ]| and asked 
002:027;01@d   | did he get whipped
002:027;01@d   | often at school.  
002:027;01['  ]| I was going to$9$ reply indignantly that$3$ 
002:027;01@a   | we were
002:027;01@a   | not National*School boys to$9$ be whipped, as he called it; 
002:027;01['  ]| but I remained
002:027;01['  ]| silent.  He began to$9$ speak on$4$ the subject of chastising
002:027;01['  ]| boys.  His mind, as if magnetised again by$4$ his speech, seemed
002:027;01['  ]| to$9$ circle slowly round and round its new centre.  He said that$3$
002:027;01@d   | when boys were that$6#2$ kind they ought to$9$ be whipped and well
002:027;01@d   | whipped.  When a boy was rough and unruly there was nothing
002:027;01@d   | would do him any good but a good sound whipping.  A slap
002:027;01@d   | on$4$ the hand or a box on$4$ the ear was no$2$ good: what he wanted
002:027;01@d   | was to$9$ get a nice warm whipping.  
002:027;01['  ]| I was surprised at this sentiment
002:027;01['  ]| and involuntarily glanced up$5$ at his face.  As I did so$5#2$ I
002:027;01['  ]| met the gaze of a pair of bottle-green eyes peering at me from
002:027;01['  ]| under a twitching forehead.  I turned my eyes away again. 
002:027;01['  ]| The man continued his monologue.  He seemed to$9$ have forgotten
002:027;01['  ]| his recent liberalism.  He said that$3$ 
002:027;01@d   | if ever he found a
002:027;01@d   | boy talking to$4$ girls or having a girl for$4$ a sweetheart he would
002:027;01@d   | whip him and whip him; and that$6#2$ would teach him not to$9$ be
002:027;01@d   | talking to$4$ girls.  And if a boy had a girl for$4$ a sweetheart and
002:027;01@d   | told lies about it then he would give him such a whipping as no$2$
002:027;01@d   | boy ever got in$4$ this world.  
002:027;01['  ]| He said that$3$ 
002:027;01@d   | there was nothing in$4$
002:027;01@d   | this world he would like$1$ so$5#1$ well as that$6#2$.  
002:027;01['  ]| He described to$4$ me
002:027;01['  ]| how he would whip such a boy as if he were unfolding some
002:027;01['  ]| elaborate mystery.  
002:027;01@d   | He would love that$6#2$, 
002:027;01['  ]| he said, 
002:027;01@d   | better than
002:027;01@d   | anything in$4$ this world; 
002:027;01['  ]| and his voice, as he led me monotonously
002:027;01['  ]| through the mystery, grew almost affectionate and
002:027;01['  ]| seemed to$9$ plead with me that$3$ I should understand him. 
002:027;01['  ]| I waited till his monologue paused again.  Then I stood up$5$
002:027;01['  ]| abruptly.  Lest I should betray my agitation I delayed a few
002:027;01['  ]| moments pretending to$9$ fix my shoe properly and then, saying
002:028;01['  ]| that$3$ I was obliged to$9$ go, I bade him good-day.  I went up$4$ the
002:028;01['  ]| slope calmly but my heart was beating quickly with fear that$3$
002:028;01['  ]| he would seize me by$4$ the ankles.  When I reached the top of the
002:028;01['  ]| slope I turned round and, without looking at him, called loudly
002:028;01['  ]| across the field:
002:028;01[A  ]| ~~ Murphy 
002:028;01['  ]| My voice had an accent of forced bravery in$4$ it and I was
002:028;01['  ]| ashamed of my paltry stratagem.  I had to$9$ call the name again
002:028;01['  ]| before Mahony saw me and hallooed in$4$ answer.  How my heart
002:028;01['  ]| beat as he came running across the field to$4$ me! He ran as if
002:028;01['  ]| to$9$ bring me aid.  And I was penitent; for$3$ in$4$ my heart I had always
002:028;01['  ]| despised him a little. 
003:029;00@@@@@| <ARABY>
003:029;01['  ]| North*Richmond*Street, being blind, was a quiet street
003:029;02['  ]| except at the hour when the Christian*Brothers'*School set the
003:029;03['  ]| boys free.  An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the
003:029;04['  ]| blind end, detached from its neighbours in$4$ a square ground. 
003:029;05['  ]| The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within
003:029;06['  ]| them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces. 
003:029;07['  ]| The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in$4$ the
003:029;08['  ]| back drawing-room.  Air, musty from having been long enclosed,
003:029;09['  ]| hung in$4$ all the rooms, and the waste room behind the
003:029;10['  ]| kitchen was littered with old useless papers.  Among these I
003:029;11['  ]| found a few paper-covered books, the pages of which$6#1$ were
003:029;12['  ]| curled and damp: The*Abbot, by$4$ Walter*Scott, The*Devout*Communicant
003:029;13['  ]| and The*Memoirs*of*Vidocq.  I liked the
003:029;14['  ]| last best because its leaves were yellow.  The wild garden behind
003:029;15['  ]| the house contained a central apple-tree and a few straggling
003:029;16['  ]| bushes under one of which$6#1$ I found the late tenant's
003:029;17['  ]| rusty bicycle-pump.  He had been a very charitable priest; in$4$
003:029;18['  ]| his will$0$ he had left all his money to$4$ institutions and the furniture
003:029;19['  ]| of his house to$4$ his sister. 
003:030;01['  ]| When the short days of winter came dusk fell before we
003:030;02['  ]| had well eaten our dinners.  When we met in$4$ the street the
003:030;03['  ]| houses had grown sombre.  The space of sky above us was the
003:030;04['  ]| colour of ever-changing violet and towards it the lamps of the
003:030;05['  ]| street lifted their feeble lanterns.  The cold air stung us and we
003:030;06['  ]| played till our bodies glowed.  Our shouts echoed in$4$ the silent
003:030;07['  ]| street.  The career of our play brought us through the dark
003:030;08['  ]| muddy lanes behind the houses where we ran the gantlet of
003:030;09['  ]| the rough tribes from the cottages, to$4$ the back doors of the
003:030;10['  ]| dark dripping gardens where odours arose from the ashpits,
003:030;11['  ]| to$4$ the dark odorous stables where a coachman smoothed and
003:030;12['  ]| combed the horse or shook music from the buckled harness. 
003:030;13['  ]| When we returned to$4$ the street light from the kitchen windows
003:030;14['  ]| had filled the areas.  If my uncle was seen turning the corner
003:030;15['  ]| we hid in$4$ the shadow until we had seen him safely housed. 
003:030;16['  ]| Or if Mangan's sister came out on$4$ the doorstep to$9$ call her
003:030;17['  ]| brother in$5$ to$4$ his tea we watched her from our shadow peer
003:030;18['  ]| up$4$ and down the street.  We waited to$9$ see whether she would
003:030;19['  ]| remain or go in$5$ and, if she remained, we left our shadow and
003:030;20['  ]| walked up$5$ to$4$ Mangan's steps resignedly.  She was waiting for$4$
003:030;21['  ]| us, her figure defined by$4$ the light from the half-opened door. 
003:030;22['  ]| Her brother always teased her before he obeyed and I stood
003:030;23['  ]| by$4$ the railings looking at her.  Her dress swung as she moved
003:030;24['  ]| her body and the soft rope of her hair tossed from side to$4$ side. 
003:030;25['  ]| Every morning I lay on$4$ the floor in$4$ the front parlour watching
003:030;26['  ]| her door.  The blind was pulled down to$4$ within an inch of
003:030;27['  ]| the sash so$3$ that$3$ I could not be seen.  When she came out on$4$
003:030;28['  ]| the doorstep my heart leaped.  I ran to$4$ the hall, seized my books
003:030;29['  ]| and followed her.  I kept her brown figure always in$4$ my eye
003:030;30['  ]| and, when we came near the point at which$6#1$ our ways diverged,
003:030;31['  ]| I quickened my pace and passed her.  This happened morning
003:030;32['  ]| after morning.  I had never spoken to$4$ her, except for$4$ a few casual
003:030;33['  ]| words, and yet her name was like$4$ a summons to$4$ all my foolish
003:030;34['  ]| blood. 
003:031;01['  ]| Her image accompanied me even in$4$ places the most hostile
003:031;02['  ]| to$4$ romance.  On$4$ Saturday evenings when my aunt went marketing
003:031;03['  ]| I had to$9$ go to$9$ carry some of the parcels.  We walked
003:031;04['  ]| through the flaring streets, jostled by$4$ drunken men and bargaining
003:031;05['  ]| women, amid the curses of labourers, the shrill litanies
003:031;06['  ]| of shop-boys who$6#1$ stood on$4$ guard by$4$ the barrels of pigs'
003:031;07['  ]| cheeks, the nasal chanting of street-singers, who$6#1$ sang a come-all-you
003:031;08['  ]| about O'Donovan*Rossa, or a ballad about the troubles
003:031;09['  ]| in$4$ our native land.  These noises converged in$4$ a single sensation
003:031;10['  ]| of life for$4$ me: I imagined that$3$ I bore my chalice safely
003:031;11['  ]| through a throng of foes.  Her name sprang to$4$ my lips at moments
003:031;12['  ]| in$4$ strange prayers and praises which$6#1$ I myself did not
003:031;13['  ]| understand.  My eyes were often full of tears (I could not tell
003:031;14['  ]| why) and at times a flood from my heart seemed to$9$ pour itself
003:031;15['  ]| out into my bosom.  I thought little of the future.  I did not
003:031;16['  ]| know whether I would ever speak to$4$ her or not or, if I spoke to$4$
003:031;17['  ]| her, how I could tell her of my confused adoration.  But my
003:031;18['  ]| body was like$4$ a harp and her words and gestures were like$4$ fingers
003:031;19['  ]| running upon$4$ the wires. 
003:031;20['  ]| One evening I went into the back drawing-room in$4$ which$6#1$
003:031;21['  ]| the priest had died.  It was a dark rainy evening and there was
003:031;22['  ]| no$2$ sound in$4$ the house.  Through one of the broken panes I
003:031;23['  ]| heard the rain impinge upon$4$ the earth, the fine incessant needles
003:031;24['  ]| of water playing in$4$ the sodden beds.  Some distant lamp
003:031;25['  ]| or lighted window gleamed below me.  I was thankful that$3$ I
003:031;26['  ]| could see so$5#1$ little.  All my senses seemed to$9$ desire to$9$ veil themselves
003:031;27['  ]| and, feeling that$3$ I was about to$9$ slip from them, I pressed
003:031;28['  ]| the palms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring:
003:031;29[A  ]| Olove O love 
003:031;29['  ]| many times. 
003:031;30['  ]| At last she spoke to$4$ me.  When she addressed the first words
003:031;31['  ]| to$4$ me I was so$5#1$ confused that$3$ I did not know what to$9$ answer. 
003:031;32['  ]| She asked me 
003:031;32@a   | was I going to$4$ Araby.  
003:031;32['  ]| I forget whether I answered
003:031;33['  ]| yes or no$7$.  
003:031;33@b   | It would be a splendid bazaar, 
003:031;33['  ]| she said; 
003:031;33@b   | she
003:031;34@b   | would love to$9$ go. 
003:032;01[A  ]| ~~ And why can not you ? 
003:032;01['  ]| I asked.  
003:032;02['  ]| While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round
003:032;03['  ]| her wrist.  
003:032;03@b   | She could not go, 
003:032;03['  ]| she said, 
003:032;03@b   | because there would be a retreat
003:032;04@b   | that$6#2$ week in$4$ her convent.  
003:032;04['  ]| Her brother and two other boys
003:032;05['  ]| were fighting for$4$ their caps and I was alone at the railings.  She
003:032;06['  ]| held one of the spikes, bowing her head towards me.  The light
003:032;07['  ]| from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her
003:032;08['  ]| neck, lit up$5$ her hair that$6#1$ rested there and, falling, lit up$5$ the hand
003:032;09['  ]| upon$4$ the railing.  It fell over one side of her dress and caught
003:032;10['  ]| the white border of a petticoat, just visible as she stood at ease. 
003:032;11[B  ]| ~~ It is well for$4$ you, 
003:032;11['  ]| she said. 
003:032;12[A  ]| ~~ If I go, 
003:032;12['  ]| I said, 
003:032;12[A  ]| I will$1$ bring you something. 
003:032;13['  ]| What innumerable follies laid waste my waking and sleeping
003:032;14['  ]| thoughts after that$6#2$ evening I wished to$9$ annihilate the tedious
003:032;15['  ]| intervening days.  I chafed against the work of school.  At night
003:032;16['  ]| in$4$ my bedroom and by$4$ day in$4$ the classroom her image came
003:032;17['  ]| between me and the page I strove to$9$ read.  The syllables of the
003:032;18['  ]| word Araby were called to$4$ me through the silence in$4$ which$6#1$
003:032;19['  ]| my soul luxuriated and cast an Eastern enchantment over me.  I
003:032;20['  ]| asked for$4$ leave to$9$ go to$4$ the bazaar on$4$ Saturday night.  My aunt
003:032;21['  ]| was surprised and 
003:032;21@d   | hoped it was not some Freemason affair.  
003:032;21['  ]| I
003:032;22['  ]| answered few questions in$4$ class.  I watched my master's face
003:032;23['  ]| pass from amiability to$4$ sternness; he 
003:032;23@w   | hoped I was not beginning
003:032;24@w   | to$9$ idle.  
003:032;24['  ]| I could not call my wandering thoughts together.  I had
003:032;25['  ]| hardly any patience with the serious work of life which$6#1$, now
003:032;26['  ]| that$3$ it stood between me and my desire, seemed to$4$ me child's
003:032;27['  ]| play, ugly monotonous child's play. 
003:032;28['  ]| On$4$ Saturday morning I reminded my uncle that$3$ I wished
003:032;29['  ]| to$9$ go to$4$ the bazaar in$4$ the evening.  He was fussing at the hallstand,
003:032;30['  ]| looking for$4$ the hat-brush, and answered me curtly:
003:032;31[C  ]| ~~ Yes, boy, I know. 
003:032;32['  ]| As he was in$4$ the hall I could not go into the front parlour
003:032;33['  ]| and lie at the window.  I left the house in$4$ bad humour and
003:033;01['  ]| walked slowly towards the school.  The air was pitilessly raw 
003:033;02['  ]| and already my heart misgave me. 
003:033;03['  ]| When I came home to$4$ dinner my uncle had not yet been
003:033;04['  ]| home.  Still it was early.  I sat staring at the clock for$4$ some time
003:033;05['  ]| and, when its ticking began to$9$ irritate me, I left the room.  I
003:033;06['  ]| mounted the staircase and gained the upper part of the
003:033;07['  ]| house.  The high cold empty gloomy rooms liberated me and
003:033;08['  ]| I went from room to$4$ room singing.  From the front window I
003:033;09['  ]| saw my companions playing below in$4$ the street.  Their cries
003:033;10['  ]| reached me weakened and indistinct and, leaning my forehead
003:033;11['  ]| against the cool glass, I looked over at the dark house where she
003:033;12['  ]| lived.  I may have stood there for$4$ an hour, seeing nothing but
003:033;13['  ]| the brown-clad figure cast by$4$ my imagination, touched discreetly
003:033;14['  ]| by$4$ the lamplight at the curved neck, at the hand upon$4$
003:033;15['  ]| the railings and at the border below the dress. 
003:033;16['  ]| When I came downstairs again I found Mrs*Mercer sitting at
003:033;17['  ]| the fire.  She was an old garrulous woman, a pawnbroker's
003:033;18['  ]| widow, who$6#1$ collected used stamps for$4$ some pious purpose.  I
003:033;19['  ]| had to$9$ endure the gossip of the tea-table.  The meal was prolonged
003:033;20['  ]| beyond an hour and still my uncle did not come.  Mrs*Mercer
003:033;21['  ]| stood up$5$ to$9$ go: 
003:033;21@v   | she was sorry she could not wait any
003:033;22@v   | longer, but it was after eight o'clock and she did not like$1$ to$9$ be
003:033;23@v   | out late, as the night air was bad for$4$ her.  
003:033;23['  ]| When she had gone I
003:033;24['  ]| began to$9$ walk up$4$ and down the room, clenching my fists.  My
003:033;25['  ]| aunt said:
003:033;26[D  ]| ~~ I am afraid you may put off your bazaar for$4$ this night of
003:033;27[D  ]| Our Lord. 
003:033;28['  ]| At nine o'clock I heard my uncle's latchkey in$4$ the halldoor. 
003:033;29['  ]| I heard him talking to$4$ himself and heard the hallstand rocking
003:033;30['  ]| when it had received the weight of his overcoat.  I could interpret
003:033;31['  ]| these signs.  When he was midway through his dinner I
003:033;32['  ]| asked him to$9$ give me the money to$9$ go to$4$ the bazaar.  He had
003:033;33['  ]| forgotten. 
003:034;01[C  ]| ~~ The people are in$4$ bed and after their first sleep now, 
003:034;01['  ]| he 
003:034;02['  ]| said. 
003:034;03['  ]| I did not smile.  My aunt said to$4$ him energetically:
003:034;04[D  ]| ~~ Can not you give him the money and let him go ? You have
003:034;05[D  ]| kept him late enough as it is. 
003:034;06['  ]| My uncle said 
003:034;06@c   | he was very sorry he had forgotten.  
003:034;06['  ]| He said
003:034;07@c   | he believed in$4$ the old saying: 
003:034;07@z   | All work and no$2$ play makes
003:034;08@z   | Jack a dull boy. 
003:034;08['  ]| He asked me 
003:034;08@c   | where I was going 
003:034;08['  ]| and, when I
003:034;09['  ]| had told him a second time he asked me 
003:034;09@c   | did I know The*Arab's*Farewell*to*His*Steed.  
003:034;10['  ]| When I left the kitchen he was
003:034;11['  ]| about to$9$ recite the opening lines of the piece to$4$ my aunt. 
003:034;12['  ]| I held a florin tightly in$4$ my hand as I strode down Buckingham*Street
003:034;13['  ]| towards the station.  The sight of the streets
003:034;14['  ]| thronged with buyers and glaring with gas recalled to$4$ me the
003:034;15['  ]| purpose of my journey.  I took my seat in$4$ a third-class carriage
003:034;16['  ]| of a deserted train.  After an intolerable delay the train
003:034;17['  ]| moved out of the station slowly.  It crept onward among ruinous
003:034;18['  ]| houses and over the twinkling river.  At Westland*Row*Station
003:034;19['  ]| a crowd of people pressed to$4$ the carriage doors; but the
003:034;20['  ]| porters moved them back, saying that$3$ 
003:034;20@x   | it was a special train for$4$
003:034;21@x   | the bazaar.  
003:034;21['  ]| I remained alone in$4$ the bare carriage.  In$4$ a few
003:034;22['  ]| minutes the train drew up$5$ beside an improvised wooden platform. 
003:034;23['  ]| I passed out on$5$ to$4$ the road and saw by$4$ the lighted dial of
003:034;24['  ]| a clock that$3$ it was ten minutes to$4$ ten.  In$4$ front of me was a
003:034;25['  ]| large building which$6#1$ displayed the magical name. 
003:034;26['  ]| I could not find any sixpenny entrance and, fearing that$3$ the
003:034;27['  ]| bazaar would be closed, I passed in$5$ quickly through a turnstile,
003:034;28['  ]| handing a shilling to$4$ a weary-looking man.  I found myself in$4$
003:034;29['  ]| a big hall girdled at half its height by$4$ a gallery.  Nearly all the
003:034;30['  ]| stalls were closed and the greater part of the hall was in$4$ darkness. 
003:034;31['  ]| I recognised a silence like$4$ that$6#2$ which$6#1$ pervades a church
003:034;32['  ]| after a service.  I walked into the centre of the bazaar timidly. 
003:034;33['  ]| A few people were gathered about the stalls which$6#1$ were still
003:034;34['  ]| open.  Before a curtain, over which$6#1$ the words 9Cafe=*Chantant
003:035;01['  ]| were written in$4$ coloured lamps, two men were counting 
003:035;02['  ]| money on$4$ a salver.  I listened to$4$ the fall of the coins. 
003:035;03['  ]| Remembering with difficulty why I had come I went over
003:035;04['  ]| to$4$ one of the stalls and examined porcelain vases and flowered
003:035;05['  ]| tea-sets.  At the door of the stall a young lady was talking and
003:035;06['  ]| laughing with two young gentlemen.  I remarked their English
003:035;07['  ]| accents and listened vaguely to$4$ their conversation. 
003:035;08[V  ]| ~~ O, I never said such a thing
003:035;09[X  ]| ~~ O, but you did
003:035;10[V  ]| ~~ O, but I did not
003:035;11[X  ]| ~~ Did not she say that$6#2$?
003:035;12[X  ]| ~~ Yes.  I heard her. 
003:035;13[V  ]| ~~ O, there is a ~~~ fib
003:035;14['  ]| Observing me the young lady came over and asked me 
003:035;14@v   | did
003:035;15@v   | I wish to$9$ buy anything.  
003:035;15['  ]| The tone of her voice was not encouraging;
003:035;16['  ]| she seemed to$9$ have spoken to$4$ me out of a sense of
003:035;17['  ]| duty.  I looked humbly at the great jars that$6#1$ stood like$4$ eastern
003:035;18['  ]| guards at either side of the dark entrance to$4$ the stall and murmured:
003:035;19[A  ]| ~~ No$7$, thank you. 
003:035;20['  ]| The young lady changed the position of one of the vases
003:035;21['  ]| and went back to$4$ the two young men.  They began to$9$ talk of
003:035;22['  ]| the same subject.  Once or twice the young lady glanced at
003:035;23['  ]| me over her shoulder. 
003:035;24['  ]| I lingered before her stall, though I knew my stay was useless,
003:035;25['  ]| to$9$ make my interest in$4$ her wares seem the more real.  Then
003:035;26['  ]| I turned away slowly and walked down the middle of the bazaar. 
003:035;27['  ]| I allowed the two pennies to$9$ fall against the sixpence in$4$
003:035;28['  ]| my pocket.  I heard a voice call from one end of the gallery that$3$
003:035;29['  ]| the light was out.  The upper part of the hall was now completely
003:035;30['  ]| dark. 
003:035;31['  ]| Gazing up$5$ into the darkness I saw myself as a creature
003:035;32['  ]| driven and derided by$4$ vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish
003:035;33['  ]| and anger. 
004:036,00@@@@@|
004:036,01['  ]| <EVELINE>
004:036,02['  ]| She sat at the window watching the evening invade the
004:036,03['  ]| avenue. Her head was leaned against the window curtains and
004:036,04['  ]| in$4$ her nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne. She was tired.
004:036,05['  ]| Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on$4$
004:036,06['  ]| his way home; she heard his footsteps clacking along the concrete
004:036,07['  ]| pavement and afterwards crunching on$4$ the cinder path
004:036,08['  ]| before the new red houses. One time there used to$9$ be a field
004:036,09['  ]| there in$4$ which$6#1$ they used to$9$ play every evening with other
004:036,10['  ]| people's children. Then a man from Belfast bought the field
004:036,11['  ]| and built houses in$4$ it ~~ not like$4$ their little brown houses but
004:036,12['  ]| bright brick houses with shining roofs. The children of the
004:036,13['  ]| avenue used to$9$ play together in$4$ that$6#2$ field ~~ the Devines, the
004:036,14['  ]| Waters, the Dunns, little Keogh the cripple, she and her brothers
004:036,15['  ]| and sisters. Ernest, however, never played: he was too
004:036,16['  ]| grown up$5$. Her father used often to$9$ hunt them in$5$ out of the
004:036,17['  ]| field with his blackthorn stick; but usually little Keogh used
004:036,18['  ]| to$9$ keep \nix\ and call out when he saw her father coming. Still
004:036,19['  ]| they seemed to$9$ have been rather happy then. Her father was
004:037,01['  ]| not so$5#1$ bad then; and besides, her mother was alive. That$6#2$ was a
004:037,02['  ]| long time ago; she and her brothers and sisters were all grown
004:037,03['  ]| up$5$; her mother was dead. Tizzie*Dunn was dead, too, and the
004:037,04['  ]| Waters had gone back to$4$ England. Everything changes. Now
004:037,05['  ]| she was going to$9$ go away like$4$ the others, to$9$ leave her home.
004:037,06['  ]| Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its familiar
004:037,07['  ]| objects which$6#1$ she had dusted once a week for$4$ so$5#1$ many years,
004:037,08['  ]| wondering where on$4$ earth all the dust came from. Perhaps she
004:037,09['  ]| would never see again those familiar objects from which$6#1$ she
004:037,10['  ]| had never dreamed of being divided. And yet during all those
004:037,11['  ]| years she had never found out the name of the priest whose yellowing
004:037,12['  ]| photograph hung on$4$ the wall above the broken harmonium
004:037,13['  ]| beside the coloured print of the promises made to$4$
004:037,14['  ]| Blessed*Margaret*Mary*Alacoque. He had been a school friend
004:037,15['  ]| of her father. Whenever he showed the photograph to$4$ a visitor
004:037,16['  ]| her father used to$9$ pass it with a casual word:
004:037,17[G  ]| ~~ He is in$4$ Melbourne now.
004:037,18['  ]| She had consented to$9$ go away, to$9$ leave her home. Was that$6#2$
004:037,19['  ]| wise? She tried to$9$ weigh each side of the question. In$4$ her home
004:037,20['  ]| anyway she had shelter and food; she had those whom she had
004:037,21['  ]| known all her life about her. Of course she had to$9$ work hard
004:037,22['  ]| both in$4$ the house and at business. What would they say of her
004:037,23['  ]| in$4$ the Stores when they found out that$3$ she had run away with a
004:037,24['  ]| fellow? Say she was a fool, perhaps; and her place would be
004:037,25['  ]| filled up$5$ by$4$ advertisement. Miss*Gavan would be glad. She had
004:037,26['  ]| always had an edge on$4$ her, especially whenever there were
004:037,27['  ]| people listening.
004:037,28[H  ]| ~~ Miss*Hill, do not you see these ladies are waiting?
004:037,29[H  ]| ~~ Look lively, Miss*Hill, please.
004:037,33['  ]| People would treat her with respect then. She would not
004:037,34['  ]| be treated as her mother had been. Even now, though she was
004:038,01['  ]| over nineteen, she sometimes felt herself in$4$ danger of her
004:038,02['  ]| father's violence. She knew it was that$6#2$ that$6#1$ had given her the
004:038,03['  ]| palpitations. When they were growing up$5$ he had never gone
004:038,04['  ]| for$4$ her, like$3$ he used to$9$ go for$4$ Harry and Ernest, because she
004:038,05['  ]| was a girl; but latterly he had begun to$9$ threaten her and say
004:038,06['  ]| what he would do to$4$ her only for$4$ her dead mother's sake. And
004:038,07['  ]| now she had nobody to$9$ protect her. Ernest was dead and
004:038,08['  ]| Harry, who$6#1$ was in$4$ the church decorating business, was nearly
004:038,09['  ]| always down somewhere in$4$ the country. Besides, the invariable
004:038,10['  ]| squabble for$4$ money on$4$ Saturday nights had begun to$9$ weary
004:038,11['  ]| her unspeakably. She always gave her entire wages ~~  seven shillings
004:038,12['  ]| ~~ and Harry always sent up$5$ what he could but the trouble
004:038,13['  ]| was to$9$ get any money from her father. He said she used to$9$
004:038,14['  ]| squander the money, that$3$ she had no$2$ head, that$3$ he was not going
004:038,15['  ]| to$9$ give her his hard-earned money to$9$ throw about the streets,
004:038,16['  ]| and much more, for$3$ he was usually fairly bad of a Saturday
004:038,17['  ]| night. In$4$ the end he would give her the money and ask her had
004:038,18['  ]| she any intention of buying Sunday's dinner. Then she had to$9$
004:038,19['  ]| rush out as quickly as she could and do her marketing, holding
004:038,20['  ]| her black leather purse tightly in$4$ her hand as she elbowed her
004:038,21['  ]| way through the crowds and returning home late under her
004:038,22['  ]| load of provisions. She had hard work to$9$ keep the house
004:038,23['  ]| together and to$9$ see that$3$ the two young children who$6#1$ had been
004:038,24['  ]| left to$4$ her charge went to$4$ school regularly and got their meals
004:038,25['  ]| regularly. It was hard work ~~  a hard life ~~  but now that$3$ she was
004:038,26['  ]| about to$9$ leave it she did not find it a wholly undesirable life.
004:038,27['  ]| She was about to$9$ explore another life with Frank. Frank was
004:038,28['  ]| very kind, manly, open-hearted. She was to$9$ go away with him
004:038,29['  ]| by$4$ the night-boat to$9$ be his wife and to$9$ live with him in$4$ Buenos
004:038,30['  ]| Ayres where he had a home waiting for$4$ her. How well she remembered
004:038,31['  ]| the first time she had seen him; he was lodging in$4$ a
004:038,32['  ]| house on$4$ the main road where she used to$9$ visit. It seemed a few
004:038,33['  ]| weeks ago. He was standing at the gate, his peaked cap pushed
004:038,34['  ]| back on$4$ his head and his hair tumbled forward over a face of
004:039,01['  ]| bronze. Then they had come to$9$ know each other. He used to$9$
004:039,02['  ]| meet her outside the Stores every evening and see her home.
004:039,03['  ]| He took her to$9$ see \The*Bohemian*Girl\ and she felt elated as
004:039,04['  ]| she sat in$4$ an unaccustomed part of the theatre with him. He
004:039,05['  ]| was awfully fond of music and sang a little. People knew that$3$
004:039,06['  ]| they were courting and, when he sang about the lass that$6#1$ loves
004:039,07['  ]| a sailor, she always felt pleasantly confused. He used to$9$ call her
004:039,08['  ]| Poppens out of fun. First of all it had been an excitement for$4$
004:039,09['  ]| her to$9$ have a fellow and then she had begun to$9$ like$1$ him. He had
004:039,10['  ]| tales of distant countries. He had started as a deck boy at a
004:039,11['  ]| pound a month on$4$ a ship of the Allan*Line going out to$4$ Canada.
004:039,12['  ]| He told her the names of the ships he had been on$4$ and the
004:039,13['  ]| names of the different services. He had sailed through the
004:039,14['  ]| Straits of Magellan and he told her stories of the terrible Patagonians.
004:039,15['  ]| He had fallen on$4$ his feet in$4$ Buenos*Ayres, he said, and
004:039,16['  ]| had come over to$4$ the old country just for$4$ a holiday. Of course,
004:039,17['  ]| her father had found out the affair and had forbidden her to$9$
004:039,18['  ]| have anything to$9$ say to$4$ him.
004:039,19[G  ]| ~~ I know these sailor chaps, 
004:039,19['  ]| he said.
004:039,20['  ]| One day he had quarrelled with Frank and after that$6#2$ she
004:039,21['  ]| had to$9$ meet her lover secretly.
004:039,22['  ]| The evening deepened in$4$ the avenue. The white of two
004:039,23['  ]| letters in$4$ her lap grew indistinct. One was to$4$ Harry; the other
004:039,24['  ]| was to$4$ her father. Ernest had been her favourite but she liked
004:039,25['  ]| Harry too. Her father was becoming old lately, she noticed;
004:039,26['  ]| he would miss her. Sometimes he could be very nice. Not long
004:039,27['  ]| before, when she had been laid up$5$ for$4$ a day, he had read her
004:039,28['  ]| out a ghost story and made toast for$4$ her at the fire. Another
004:039,29['  ]| day, when their mother was alive, they had all gone for$4$ a picnic
004:039,30['  ]| to$4$ the Hill of Howth. She remembered her father putting
004:039,31['  ]| on$5$ her mother's bonnet to$9$ make the children laugh.
004:039,32['  ]| Her time was running out but she continued to$9$ sit by$4$ the
004:039,33['  ]| window, leaning her head against the window curtain, inhaling
004:039,34['  ]| the odour of dusty cretonne. Down far in$4$ the avenue she
004:040,01['  ]| could hear a street organ playing. She knew the air. Strange
004:040,02['  ]| that$3$ it should come that$6#2$ very night to$9$ remind her of the promise
004:040,03['  ]| to$4$ her mother, her promise to$9$ keep the home together as
004:040,04['  ]| long as she could. She remembered the last night of her
004:040,05['  ]| mother's illness; she was again in$4$ the close dark room at the
004:040,06['  ]| other side of the hall and outside she heard a melancholy air
004:040,07['  ]| of Italy. The organ-player had been ordered to$9$ go away and
004:040,08['  ]| given sixpence. She remembered her father strutting back
004:040,09['  ]| into the sickroom saying:
004:040,10[G  ]| ~~ Damned Italians! coming over here!
004:040,11['  ]| As she mused the pitiful vision of her mother's life laid its
004:040,12['  ]| spell on$4$ the very quick of her being ~~  that$6#2$ life of commonplace
004:040,13['  ]| sacrifices closing in$4$ final craziness. She trembled as she
004:040,14['  ]| heard again her mother's voice saying constantly with foolish
004:040,15['  ]| insistence:
004:040,16[I  ]| ~~ Derevaun Seraun! Derevaun Seraun!
004:040,17['  ]| She stood up$5$ in$4$ a sudden impulse of terror. Escape! She
004:040,18['  ]| must escape! Frank would save her. He would give her life,
004:040,19['  ]| perhaps love, too. But she wanted to$9$ live. Why should she be
004:040,20['  ]| unhappy? She had a right to$4$ happiness. Frank would take her
004:040,21['  ]| in$4$ his arms, fold her in$4$ his arms. He would save her.
004:040,22['  ]| ~~
004:040,23['  ]| She stood among the swaying crowd in$4$ the station at the
004:040,24['  ]| North Wall. He held her hand and she knew that$3$ he was speaking
004:040,25['  ]| to$4$ her, saying something about the passage over and
004:040,26['  ]| over again. The station was full of soldiers with brown baggages.
004:040,27['  ]| Through the wide doors of the sheds she caught a
004:040,28['  ]| glimpse of the black mass of the boat, lying in$5$ beside the quay
004:040,29['  ]| wall, with illumined portholes. She answered nothing. She felt
004:040,30['  ]| her cheek pale and cold and, out of a maze of distress, she
004:040,31['  ]| prayed to$4$ God to$9$ direct her, to$9$ show her what was her duty.
004:040,32['  ]| The boat blew a long mournful whistle into the mist. If she
004:040,33['  ]| went, to-morrow she would be on$4$ the sea with Frank, steaming
004:040,34['  ]| towards Buenos*Ayres. Their passage had been booked.
004:041,01['  ]| Could she still draw back after all he had done for$4$ her?
004:041,02['  ]| Her distress awoke a nausea in$4$ her body and she kept moving
004:041,03['  ]| her lips in$4$ silent fervent prayer.
004:041,04['  ]| A bell clanged upon$4$ her heart. She felt him seize her hand:
004:041,05[J  ]| ~~ Come!
004:041,06['  ]| All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was
004:041,07['  ]| drawing her into them: he would drown her. She gripped with
004:041,08['  ]| both hands at the iron railing.
004:041,09[J  ]| ~~ Come!
004:041,10['  ]| No$7$! No$7$! No$7$! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the
004:041,11['  ]| iron in$4$ frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish!
004:041,12[J  ]| ~~ Eveline! Evvy!
004:041,13['  ]| He rushed beyond the barrier and called to$4$ her to$9$ follow.
004:041,14['  ]| He was shouted at to$9$ go on$5$ but he still called to$4$ her. She set
004:041,15['  ]| her white face to$4$ him, passive, like$4$ a helpless animal. Her eyes
004:041,16['  ]| gave him no$2$ sign of love or farewell or recognition.
005:042,00@@@@@|
005:042,01['  ]| <AFTER THE RACE>
005:042,02['  ]| The cars came scudding in$5$ towards Dublin, running
005:042,03['  ]| evenly like$4$ pellets in$4$ the groove of the Naas*Road. At the crest
005:042,04['  ]| of the hill at Inchicore sightseers had gathered in$4$ clumps to$9$
005:042,05['  ]| watch the cars careering homeward and through this channel
005:042,06['  ]| of poverty and inaction the Continent sped its wealth and
005:042,07['  ]| industry. Now and again the clumps of people raised the
005:042,08['  ]| cheer of the gratefully oppressed. Their sympathy, however,
005:042,09['  ]| was for$4$ the blue cars ~~ the cars of their friends, the French.
005:042,10['  ]| The French, moreover, were virtual victors. Their team
005:042,11['  ]| had finished solidly; they had been placed second and third
005:042,12['  ]| and the driver of the winning German car was reported a
005:042,13['  ]| Belgian. Each blue car, therefore, received a double round
005:042,14['  ]| of welcome as it topped the crest of the hill and each cheer
005:042,15['  ]| of welcome was acknowledged with smiles and nods by$4$ those
005:042,16['  ]| in$4$ the car. In$4$ one of these trimly built cars was a party of four
005:042,17['  ]| young men whose spirits seemed to$9$ be at present well above
005:042,18['  ]| the level of successful Gallicism: in$4$ fact, these four young
005:042,19['  ]| men were almost hilarious. They were Charles*Se=gouin, the
005:043,01['  ]| owner of the car; Andre=*Rivie`re, a young electrician of Canadian
005:043,02['  ]| birth; a huge Hungarian named Villona and a neatly
005:043,03['  ]| groomed young man named Doyle. Se=gouin was in$4$ good humour
005:043,04['  ]| because he had unexpectedly received some orders in$4$
005:043,05['  ]| advance (he was about to$9$ start a motor establishment in$4$ Paris)
005:043,06['  ]| and Rivie`re was in$4$ good humour because he was to$9$ be appointed
005:043,07['  ]| manager of the establishment; these two young men
005:043,08['  ]| (who$6#1$ were cousins) were also in$4$ good humour because of the
005:043,09['  ]| success of the French cars. Villona was in$4$ good humour because
005:043,10['  ]| he had had a very satisfactory luncheon; and besides he
005:043,11['  ]| was an optimist by$4$ nature. The fourth member of the party,
005:043,12['  ]| however, was too excited to$9$ be genuinely happy.
005:043,13['  ]| He was about twenty-six years of age, with a soft, light
005:043,14['  ]| brown moustache and rather innocent-looking grey eyes.
005:043,15['  ]| His father, who$6#1$ had begun life as an advanced Nationalist, had
005:043,16['  ]| modified his views early. He had made his money as a butcher
005:043,17['  ]| in$4$ Kingstown and by$4$ opening shops in$4$ Dublin and in$4$ the suburbs
005:043,18['  ]| he had made his money many times over. He had also
005:043,19['  ]| been fortunate enough to$9$ secure some of the police contracts
005:043,20['  ]| and in$4$ the end he had become rich enough to$9$ be alluded to$5$ in$4$
005:043,21['  ]| the Dublin newspapers as a merchant prince. He had sent his
005:043,22['  ]| son to$4$ England to$9$ be educated in$4$ a big Catholic college and had
005:043,23['  ]| afterwards sent him to$4$ Dublin*University to$9$ study law. Jimmy
005:043,24['  ]| did not study very earnestly and took to$4$ bad courses for$4$ a
005:043,25['  ]| while. He had money and he was popular; and he divided his
005:043,26['  ]| time curiously between musical and motoring circles. Then he
005:043,27['  ]| had been sent for$4$ a term to$4$ Cambridge to$9$ see a little life. His
005:043,28['  ]| father, remonstrative, but covertly proud of the excess, had paid
005:043,29['  ]| his bills and brought him home. It was at Cambridge that$3$ he
005:043,30['  ]| had met Se=gouin. They were not much more than acquaintances
005:043,31['  ]| as yet but Jimmy found great pleasure in$4$ the society of
005:043,32['  ]| one who$6#1$ had seen so$5#1$ much of the world and was reputed to$9$
005:043,33['  ]| own some of the biggest hotels in$4$ France. Such a person (as his
005:043,34['  ]| father agreed) was well worth knowing, even if he had not
005:044,01['  ]| been the charming companion he was. Villona was entertaining
005:044,02['  ]| also ~~ a brilliant pianist ~~ but, unfortunately, very poor.
005:044,03['  ]| The car ran on$5$ merrily with its cargo of hilarious youth.
005:044,04['  ]| The two cousins sat on$4$ the front seat; Jimmy and his Hungarian
005:044,05['  ]| friend sat behind. Decidedly Villona was in$4$ excellent
005:044,06['  ]| spirits; he kept up$5$ a deep bass hum of melody for$4$ miles of
005:044,07['  ]| the road. The Frenchmen flung their laughter and light words
005:044,08['  ]| over their shoulders and often Jimmy had to$9$ strain forward
005:044,09['  ]| to$9$ catch the quick phrase. This was not altogether pleasant
005:044,10['  ]| for$4$ him, as he had nearly always to$9$ make a deft guess at the
005:044,11['  ]| meaning and shout back a suitable answer in$4$ the teeth of a
005:044,12['  ]| high wind. Besides Villona's humming would confuse anybody;
005:044,13['  ]| the noise of the car, too.
005:044,14['  ]| Rapid motion through space elates one; so$5#2$ does notoriety;
005:044,15['  ]| so$5#2$ does the possession of money. These were three good reasons
005:044,16['  ]| for$4$ Jimmy's excitement. He had been seen by$4$ many of
005:044,17['  ]| his friends that$6#2$ day in$4$ the company of these Continentals. At
005:044,18['  ]| the control Se=gouin had presented him to$4$ one of the French
005:044,19['  ]| competitors and, in$4$ answer to$4$ his confused murmur of compliment,
005:044,20['  ]| the swarthy face of the driver had disclosed a line
005:044,21['  ]| of shining white teeth. It was pleasant after that$6#2$ honour to$9$
005:044,22['  ]| return to$4$ the profane world of spectators amid nudges and
005:044,23['  ]| significant looks. Then as to$4$ money ~~ he really had a great
005:044,24['  ]| sum under his control. Se=gouin, perhaps, would not think it a
005:044,25['  ]| great sum but Jimmy who$6#1$, in$4$ spite of temporary errors, was
005:044,26['  ]| at heart the inheritor of solid instincts knew well with what
005:044,27['  ]| difficulty it had been got together. This knowledge had previously
005:044,28['  ]| kept his bills within the limits of reasonable recklessness
005:044,29['  ]| and, if he had been so$5#1$ conscious of the labour latent in$4$
005:044,30['  ]| money when there had been question merely of some freak
005:044,31['  ]| of the higher intelligence, how much more so$5#2$ now when he
005:044,32['  ]| was about to$9$ stake the greater part of his substance! It was a
005:044,33['  ]| serious thing for$4$ him.
005:044,34['  ]| Of course, the investment was a good one and Se=gouin had
005:045,01['  ]| managed to$9$ give the impression that$3$ it was by$4$ a favour of
005:045,02['  ]| friendship the mite of Irish money was to$9$ be included in$4$ the
005:045,03['  ]| capital of the concern. Jimmy had a respect for$4$ his father's
005:045,04['  ]| shrewdness in$4$ business matters and in$4$ this case it had been his
005:045,05['  ]| father who$6#1$ had first suggested the investment; money to$9$ be
005:045,06['  ]| made in$4$ the motor business, pots of money. Moreover Se=gouin
005:045,07['  ]| had the unmistakable air of wealth. Jimmy set out to$9$ translate
005:045,08['  ]| into days' work that$6#2$ lordly car in$4$ which$6#1$ he sat. How smoothly
005:045,09['  ]| it ran. In$4$ what style they had come careering along the country
005:045,10['  ]| roads! The journey laid a magical finger on$4$ the genuine
005:045,11['  ]| pulse of life and gallantly the machinery of human nerves strove
005:045,12['  ]| to$9$ answer the bounding courses of the swift blue animal.
005:045,13['  ]| They drove down Dame*Street. The street was busy with
005:045,14['  ]| unusual traffic, loud with the horns of motorists and the gongs
005:045,15['  ]| of impatient tram-drivers. Near the Bank Se=gouin drew up$5$
005:045,16['  ]| and Jimmy and his friend alighted. A little knot of people collected
005:045,17['  ]| on$4$ the footpath to$9$ pay homage to$4$ the snorting motor.
005:045,18['  ]| The party was to$9$ dine together that$6#2$ evening in$4$ Se=gouin's
005:045,19['  ]| hotel and, meanwhile, Jimmy and his friend, who$6#1$ was staying
005:045,20['  ]| with him, were to$9$ go home to$9$ dress. The car steered out
005:045,21['  ]| slowly for$4$ Grafton*Street while the two young men pushed
005:045,22['  ]| their way through the knot of gazers. They walked northward
005:045,23['  ]| with a curious feeling of disappointment in$4$ the exercise,
005:045,24['  ]| while the city hung its pale globes of light above them in$4$ a
005:045,25['  ]| haze of summer evening.
005:045,26['  ]| In$4$ Jimmy's house this dinner had been pronounced an occasion.
005:045,27['  ]| A certain pride mingled with his parents' trepidation,
005:045,28['  ]| a certain eagerness, also, to$9$ play fast and loose for$3$ the names
005:045,29['  ]| of great foreign cities have at least this virtue. Jimmy, too,
005:045,30['  ]| looked very well when he was dressed and, as he stood in$4$ the
005:045,31['  ]| hall giving a last equation to$4$ the bows of his dress tie, his father
005:045,32['  ]| may have felt even commercially satisfied at having secured
005:045,33['  ]| for$4$ his son qualities often unpurchasable. His father,
005:045,34['  ]| therefore was unusually friendly with Villona and his manner
005:046,01['  ]| expressed a real respect for$4$ foreign accomplishments; but this
005:046,02['  ]| subtlety of his host was probably lost upon$4$ the Hungarian, who$6#1$
005:046,03['  ]| was beginning to$9$ have a sharp desire for$4$ his dinner.
005:046,04['  ]| The dinner was excellent, exquisite. Se=gouin, Jimmy decided,
005:046,05['  ]| had a very refined taste. The party was increased by$4$ a
005:046,06['  ]| young Englishman named Routh whom Jimmy had seen with
005:046,07['  ]| Se=gouin at Cambridge. The young men supped in$4$ a snug room
005:046,08['  ]| lit by$4$ electric candle-lamps. They talked volubly and with little
005:046,09['  ]| reserve. Jimmy, whose imagination was kindling, conceived the
005:046,10['  ]| lively youth of the Frenchmen twined elegantly upon$4$ the firm
005:046,11['  ]| framework of the Englishman's manner. A graceful image of
005:046,12['  ]| his, he thought, and a just one. He admired the dexterity with
005:046,13['  ]| which$6#1$ their host directed the conversation. The five young
005:046,14['  ]| men had various tastes and their tongues had been loosened.
005:046,15['  ]| Villona, with immense respect, began to$9$ discover to$4$ the mildly
005:046,16['  ]| surprised Englishman the beauties of the English madrigal, deploring
005:046,17['  ]| the loss of old instruments. Rivie`re, not wholly ingenuously,
005:046,18['  ]| undertook to$9$ explain to$4$ Jimmy the triumph of the
005:046,19['  ]| French mechanicians. The resonant voice of the Hungarian
005:046,20['  ]| was about to$9$ prevail in$4$ ridicule of the spurious lutes of the
005:046,21['  ]| romantic painters when Se=gouin shepherded his party into
005:046,22['  ]| politics. Here was congenial ground for$4$ all. Jimmy, under
005:046,23['  ]| generous influences, felt the buried zeal of his father wake to$4$
005:046,24['  ]| life within him: he aroused the torpid Routh at last. The room
005:046,25['  ]| grew doubly hot and Se=gouin's task grew harder each moment:
005:046,26['  ]| there was even danger of personal spite. The alert host at an
005:046,27['  ]| opportunity lifted his glass to$4$ Humanity and, when the toast
005:046,28['  ]| had been drunk, he threw open a window significantly.
005:046,29['  ]| That$6#2$ night the city wore the mask of a capital. The five
005:046,30['  ]| young men strolled along Stephen's*Green in$4$ a faint cloud of
005:046,31['  ]| aromatic smoke. They talked loudly and gaily and their cloaks
005:046,32['  ]| dangled from their shoulders. The people made way for$4$ them.
005:046,33['  ]| At the corner of Grafton*Street a short fat man was putting
005:046,34['  ]| two handsome ladies on$4$ a car in$4$ charge of another fat man.
005:047,01['  ]| The car drove off and the short fat man caught sight of the
005:047,02['  ]| party.
005:047,03[K  ]| ~~ Andre=.
005:047,04[X  ]| ~~ It is Farley!
005:047,05['  ]| A torrent of talk followed. Farley was an American. No*one
005:047,06['  ]| knew very well what the talk was about. Villona and Rivie`re
005:047,07['  ]| were the noisiest, but all the men were excited. They got
005:047,08['  ]| up$5$ on$4$ a car, squeezing themselves together amid much laughter.
005:047,09['  ]| They drove by$4$ the crowd, blended now into soft colours,
005:047,10['  ]| to$4$ a music of merry bells. They took the train at Westland*Row 
005:047,11['  ]| and in$4$ a few seconds, as it seemed to$4$ Jimmy, they were
005:047,12['  ]| walking out of Kingstown*Station. The ticket-collector saluted
005:047,13['  ]| Jimmy; he was an old man:
005:047,14[L  ]| ~~ Fine night, sir!
005:047,15['  ]| It was a serene summer night; the harbour lay like$4$ a darkened
005:047,16['  ]| mirror at their feet. They proceeded towards it with
005:047,17['  ]| linked arms, singing \Cadet\ \Roussel\ in$4$ chorus, stamping their
005:047,18['  ]| feet at every:
005:047,19[Y  ]| ~~ \Ho\! \Ho\! \Hohe=\, \vraiment\!
005:047,20['  ]| They got into a rowboat at the slip and made out for$4$ the
005:047,21['  ]| American's yacht. There was to$9$ be supper, music, cards. Villona
005:047,22['  ]| said with conviction:
005:047,23[M  ]| ~~ It is beautiful!
005:047,24['  ]| There was a yacht piano in$4$ the cabin. Villona played a waltz
005:047,25['  ]| for$4$ Farley and Rivie`re, Farley acting as cavalier and Rivie`re as
005:047,26['  ]| lady. Then an impromptu square dance, the men devising
005:047,27['  ]| original figures. What merriment! Jimmy took his part with
005:047,28['  ]| a will$0$; this was seeing life, at least. Then Farley got out of
005:047,29['  ]| breath and cried 
005:047,29[K  ]| \Stop\! 
005:047,29['  ]| A man brought in$5$ a light supper, and
005:047,30['  ]| the young men sat down to$4$ it for$4$ form' sake. They drank,
005:047,31['  ]| however: it was Bohemian. They drank Ireland, England,
005:047,32['  ]| France, Hungary, the United States of America. Jimmy made a
005:047,33['  ]| speech, a long speech, Villona saying 
005:047,33[M  ]| \Hear\! \hear\! 
005:047,33['  ]| whenever
005:047,34['  ]| there was a pause. There was a great clapping of hands when
005:048,01['  ]| he sat down. It must have been a good speech. Farley
005:048,02['  ]| clapped him on$4$ the back and laughed loudly. What jovial fellows!
005:048,03['  ]| What good company they were!
005:048,04['  ]| Cards! cards! The table was cleared. Villona returned quietly
005:048,05['  ]| to$4$ his piano and played voluntaries for$4$ them. The other
005:048,06['  ]| men played game after game, flinging themselves boldly
005:048,07['  ]| into the adventure. They drank the health of the Queen of
005:048,08['  ]| Hearts and of the Queen of Diamonds. Jimmy felt obscurely
005:048,09['  ]| the lack of an audience: the wit was flashing. Play ran very
005:048,10['  ]| high and paper began to$9$ pass. Jimmy did not know exactly
005:048,11['  ]| who$6#1$ was winning but he knew that$3$ he was losing. But it was
005:048,12['  ]| his own fault for$3$ he frequently mistook his cards and the
005:048,13['  ]| other men had to$9$ calculate his I%O%U%'s for$4$ him. They were
005:048,14['  ]| devils of fellows but he wished they would stop: it was getting
005:048,15['  ]| late. Someone gave the toast of the yacht \The\ \Belle\ \of\ \Newport\
005:048,16['  ]| and then someone proposed one great game for$4$ a finish.
005:048,17['  ]| The piano had stopped; Villona must have gone up$5$ on$4$
005:048,18['  ]| deck. It was a terrible game. They stopped just before the
005:048,19['  ]| end of it to$9$ drink for$4$ luck. Jimmy understood that$3$ the game
005:048,20['  ]| lay between Routh and Se=gouin. What excitement! Jimmy
005:048,21['  ]| was excited too; he would lose, of course. How much had he
005:048,22['  ]| written away? The men rose to$4$ their feet to$9$ play the last
005:048,23['  ]| tricks, talking and gesticulating. Routh won. The cabin shook
005:048,24['  ]| with the young men's cheering and the cards were bundled
005:048,25['  ]| together. They began then to$9$ gather in$4$ what they had
005:048,26['  ]| won. Farley and Jimmy were the heaviest losers.
005:048,27['  ]| He knew that$3$ he would regret in$4$ the morning but at present
005:048,28['  ]| he was glad of the rest, glad of the dark stupor that$6#1$ would
005:048,29['  ]| cover up$5$ his folly. He leaned his elbows on$4$ the table and
005:048,30['  ]| rested his head between his hands, counting the beats of his
005:048,31['  ]| temples. The cabin door opened and he saw the Hungarian
005:048,32['  ]| standing in$4$ a shaft of grey light:
005:048,33[N  ]| ~~ Daybreak, gentlemen!
006:049,00@@@@@|
006:049,01['  ]| <TWO GALLANTS>
006:049,02['  ]| The grey warm evening of August had descended upon$4$
006:049,03['  ]| the city and a mild warm air, a memory of summer, circulated
006:049,04['  ]| in$4$ the streets. The streets, shuttered for$4$ the repose of
006:049,05['  ]| Sunday, swarmed with a gaily coloured crowd. Like$4$ illumined
006:049,06['  ]| pearls the lamps shone from the summits of their tall
006:049,07['  ]| poles upon$4$ the living texture below which$6#1$, changing shape
006:049,08['  ]| and hue unceasingly, sent up$5$ into the warm grey evening air
006:049,09['  ]| an unchanging unceasing murmur.
006:049,10['  ]| Two young men came down the hill of Rutland*Square. One
006:049,11['  ]| of them was just bringing a long monologue to$4$ a close. The
006:049,12['  ]| other, who$6#1$ walked on$4$ the verge of the path and was at times
006:049,13['  ]| obliged to$9$ step on$5$ to$4$ the road, owing to$4$ his companion's rudeness,
006:049,14['  ]| wore an amused listening face. He was squat and
006:049,15['  ]| ruddy. A yachting cap was shoved far back from his forehead
006:049,16['  ]| and the narrative to$4$ which$6#1$ he listened made constant waves of
006:049,17['  ]| expression break forth over his face from the corners of his
006:049,18['  ]| nose and eyes and mouth. Little jets of wheezing laughter
006:049,19['  ]| followed one another out of his convulsed body. His eyes,
006:049,20['  ]| twinkling with cunning enjoyment, glanced at every moment
006:050,01['  ]| towards his companion's face. Once or twice he rearranged the
006:050,02['  ]| light waterproof which$6#1$ he had slung over one shoulder in$4$
006:050,03['  ]| toreador fashion. His breeches, his white rubber shoes and
006:050,04['  ]| his jauntily slung waterproof expressed youth. But his figure
006:050,05['  ]| fell into rotundity at the waist, his hair was scant and grey
006:050,06['  ]| and his face, when the waves of expression had passed over it,
006:050,07['  ]| had a ravaged look.
006:050,08['  ]| When he was quite sure that$3$ the narrative had ended he
006:050,09['  ]| laughed noiselessly for$4$ fully half a minute. Then he said:
006:050,10[O  ]| ~~ Well! ~~ That$6#2$ takes the biscuit!
006:050,11['  ]| His voice seemed winnowed of vigour; and to$9$ enforce
006:050,12['  ]| his words he added with humour:
006:050,13[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ takes the solitary, unique, and, if I may so$5#2$ call
006:050,14[O  ]| it, \recherche=\ biscuit!
006:050,15['  ]| He became serious and silent when he had said this. His
006:050,16['  ]| tongue was tired for$3$ he had been talking all the afternoon in$4$
006:050,17['  ]| a public-house in$4$ Dorset*Street. Most people considered Lenehan
006:050,18['  ]| a leech but, in$4$ spite of this reputation, his adroitness
006:050,19['  ]| and eloquence had always prevented his friends from forming
006:050,20['  ]| any general policy against him. He had a brave manner
006:050,21['  ]| of coming up$5$ to$4$ a party of them in$4$ a bar and of holding himself
006:050,22['  ]| nimbly at the borders of the company until he was included
006:050,23['  ]| in$4$ a round. He was a sporting vagrant armed with a vast
006:050,24['  ]| stock of stories, limericks and riddles. He was insensitive to$4$
006:050,25['  ]| all kinds of discourtesy. No*one knew how he achieved
006:050,26['  ]| the stern task of living, but his name was vaguely associated
006:050,27['  ]| with racing tissues.
006:050,28[O  ]| ~~ And where did you pick her up$5$, Corley? 
006:050,28['  ]| he asked.
006:050,29['  ]| Corley ran his tongue swiftly along his upper lip.
006:050,30[P  ]| ~~ One night, man, 
006:050,30['  ]| he said, 
006:050,30[P  ]| I was going along Dame*Street
006:050,31[P  ]| and I spotted a fine tart under Waterhouse's clock and said
006:050,32[P  ]| good-night, you know. So$3$ we went for$4$ a walk round by$4$ the
006:050,33[P  ]| canal and she told me she was a slavey in$4$ a house in$4$ Baggot*Street. 
006:050,34[P  ]| I put my arm round her and squeezed her a bit that$6#2$
006:051,01[P  ]| night. Then next Sunday, man, I met her by$4$ appointment. We
006:051,02[P  ]| went out to$4$ Donnybrook and I brought her into a field there.
006:051,03[P  ]| She told me she used to$9$ go with a dairyman. ~~ It was fine,
006:051,04[P  ]| man. Cigarettes every night she would bring me and paying the
006:051,05[P  ]| tram out and back. And one night she brought me two bloody
006:051,06[P  ]| fine cigars ~~ O, the real cheese, you know, that$3$ the old fellow
006:051,07[P  ]| used to$9$ smoke. ~~ I was afraid, man, she would get in$4$ the
006:051,08[P  ]| family way. But she is up$5$ to$4$ the dodge.
006:051,09[O  ]| ~~ Maybe she thinks you will$1$ marry her, 
006:051,09['  ]| said Lenehan.
006:051,10[P  ]| ~~ I told her I was out of a job, 
006:051,10['  ]| said Corley. 
006:051,10[P  ]| I told her I
006:051,11[P  ]| was in$4$ Pim's. She does not know my name. I was too hairy to$9$
006:051,12[P  ]| tell her that$6#2$. But she thinks I am a bit of class, you know.
006:051,13['  ]| Lenehan laughed again, noiselessly.
006:051,14[O  ]| ~~ Of all the good ones ever I heard, 
006:051,14['  ]| he said, 
006:051,14[O  ]| that$6#2$ emphatically
006:051,15[O  ]| takes the biscuit.
006:051,16['  ]| Corley's stride acknowledged the compliment. The swing
006:051,17['  ]| of his burly body made his friend execute a few light skips
006:051,18['  ]| from the path to$4$ the roadway and back again. Corley was
006:051,19['  ]| the son of an inspector of police and he had inherited his father's
006:051,20['  ]| frame and gait. He walked with his hands by$4$ his sides,
006:051,21['  ]| holding himself erect and swaying his head from side to$4$ side.
006:051,22['  ]| His head was large, globular and oily; it sweated in$4$ all weathers;
006:051,23['  ]| and his large round hat, set upon$4$ it sideways, looked like$4$
006:051,24['  ]| a bulb which$6#1$ had grown out of another. He always stared
006:051,25['  ]| straight before him as if he were on$4$ parade and, when he
006:051,26['  ]| wished to$9$ gaze after someone in$4$ the street, it was necessary
006:051,27['  ]| for$4$ him to$9$ move his body from the hips. At present he was
006:051,28['  ]| about town. Whenever any job was vacant a friend was always
006:051,29['  ]| ready to$9$ give him the hard word. He was often to$9$ be
006:051,30['  ]| seen walking with policemen in$4$ plain clothes, talking earnestly.
006:051,31['  ]| He knew the inner side of all affairs and was fond of
006:051,32['  ]| delivering final judgments. He spoke without listening to$4$ the
006:051,33['  ]| speech of his companions. His conversation was mainly about
006:051,34['  ]| himself: what he had said to$4$ such a person and what such a person
006:052,01['  ]| had said to$4$ him and what he had said to$9$ settle the matter.
006:052,02['  ]| When he reported these dialogues he aspirated the first letter
006:052,03['  ]| of his name after the manner of Florentines.
006:052,04['  ]| Lenehan offered his friend a cigarette. As the two young
006:052,05['  ]| men walked on$5$ through the crowd Corley occasionally turned
006:052,06['  ]| to$9$ smile at some of the passing girls but Lenehan's gaze was
006:052,07['  ]| fixed on$4$ the large faint moon circled with a double halo. He
006:052,08['  ]| watched earnestly the passing of the grey web of twilight
006:052,09['  ]| across its face. At length he said:
006:052,10[O  ]| ~~ Well ~~ tell me, Corley, I suppose you will$1$ be able to$9$
006:052,11[O  ]| pull it off all right, eh?
006:052,12['  ]| Corley closed one eye expressively as an answer.
006:052,13[O  ]| ~~ Is she game for$4$ that$6#2$? 
006:052,13['  ]| asked Lenehan dubiously. 
006:052,13[O  ]| You can
006:052,14[O  ]| never know women.
006:052,15[P  ]| ~~ She is all right, 
006:052,15['  ]| said Corley. 
006:052,15[P  ]| I know the way to$9$ get around
006:052,16[P  ]| her, man. She is a bit gone on$4$ me.
006:052,17[O  ]| ~~ You are what I call a gay Lothario, 
006:052,17['  ]| said Lenehan. 
006:052,17[O  ]| And the
006:052,18[O  ]| proper kind of a Lothario, too!
006:052,19['  ]| A shade of mockery relieved the servility of his manner. To$9$
006:052,20['  ]| save himself he had the habit of leaving his flattery open to$4$
006:052,21['  ]| the interpretation of raillery. But Corley had not a subtle mind.
006:052,22[P  ]| ~~ There is nothing to$9$ touch a good slavey, 
006:052,22['  ]| he affirmed.
006:052,23[P  ]| Take my tip for$4$ it.
006:052,24[O  ]| ~~ By$4$ one who$6#1$ has tried them all, 
006:052,24['  ]| said Lenehan.
006:052,25[P  ]| ~~ First I used to$9$ go with girls, you know, 
006:052,25['  ]| said Corley, 
006:052,25[P  ]| unbosoming;
006:052,26[P  ]| girls off the South*Circular. I used to$9$ take them
006:052,27[P  ]| out, man, on$4$ the tram somewhere and pay the tram or take
006:052,28[P  ]| them to$4$ a band or a play at the theatre or buy them chocolate
006:052,29[P  ]| and sweets or something that$6#2$ way. I used to$9$ spend money on$4$
006:052,30[P  ]| them right enough, 
006:052,30['  ]| he added, in$4$ a convincing tone, as if he
006:052,31['  ]| were conscious of being disbelieved.
006:052,32['  ]| But Lenehan could well believe it; he nodded gravely.
006:052,33[O  ]| ~~ I know that$6#2$ game, 
006:052,33['  ]| he said, 
006:052,33[O  ]| and it is a mug's game.
006:052,34[P  ]| ~~ And damn the thing I ever got out of it, 
006:052,34['  ]| said Corley.
006:053,01[O  ]| ~~ Ditto here, 
006:053,01['  ]| said Lenehan.
006:053,02[P  ]| ~~ Only off of one of them, 
006:053,02['  ]| said Corley.
006:053,03['  ]| He moistened his upper lip by$4$ running his tongue along it.
006:053,04['  ]| The recollection brightened his eyes. He too gazed at the pale
006:053,05['  ]| disc of the moon, now nearly veiled, and seemed to$9$ meditate.
006:053,06[P  ]| ~~ She was ~~ a bit of all right, 
006:053,06['  ]| he said regretfully.
006:053,07['  ]| He was silent again. Then he added:
006:053,08[P  ]| ~~ She is on$4$ the turf now. I saw her driving down Earl*Street
006:053,09[P  ]| one night with two fellows with her on$4$ a car.
006:053,10[O  ]| ~~ I suppose that$6#2$ is your doing, 
006:053,10['  ]| said Lenehan.
006:053,11[P  ]| ~~ There was others at her before me, 
006:053,11['  ]| said Corley philosophically.
006:053,12['  ]| This time Lenehan was inclined to$9$ disbelieve. He shook
006:053,13['  ]| his head to$8$ and fro and smiled.
006:053,14[O  ]| ~~ You know you can not kid me, Corley, 
006:053,14['  ]| he said.
006:053,15[P  ]| ~~ Honest to$4$ God! 
006:053,15['  ]| said Corley. 
006:053,15[P  ]| Did not she tell me herself?
006:053,16['  ]| Lenehan made a tragic gesture.
006:053,17[O  ]| ~~ Base betrayer! 
006:053,17['  ]| he said.
006:053,18['  ]| As they passed along the railings of Trinity*College, Lenehan
006:053,19['  ]| skipped out into the road and peered up$5$ at the clock.
006:053,20[O  ]| ~~ Twenty after, 
006:053,20['  ]| he said.
006:053,21[P  ]| ~~ Time enough, 
006:053,21['  ]| said Corley. 
006:053,21[P  ]| She will$1$ be there all right. I always
006:053,22[P  ]| let her wait a bit.
006:053,23['  ]| Lenehan laughed quietly.
006:053,24[O  ]| ~~ Ecod! Corley, you know how to$9$ take them, 
006:053,24['  ]| he said.
006:053,25[P  ]| ~~ I am up$5$ to$4$ all their little tricks, 
006:053,25['  ]| Corley confessed.
006:053,26[O  ]| ~~ But tell me, 
006:053,26['  ]| said Lenehan again, 
006:053,26[O  ]| are you sure you can bring
006:053,27[O  ]| it off all right? You know it is a ticklish job. They are damn
006:053,28[O  ]| close on$4$ that$6#2$ point. Eh? ~~ What?
006:053,29['  ]| His bright, small eyes searched his companion's face for$4$
006:053,30['  ]| reassurance. Corley swung his head to$8$ and fro as if to$9$ toss
006:053,31['  ]| aside an insistent insect, and his brows gathered.
006:053,32[P  ]| ~~ I will$1$ pull it off, 
006:053,32['  ]| he said. 
006:053,32[P  ]| Leave it to$4$ me, can not you?
006:053,33['  ]| Lenehan said no$2$ more. He did not wish to$9$ ruffle his friend's
006:054,01['  ]| temper, to$9$ be sent to$4$ the devil and told that$3$ his advice was
006:054,02['  ]| not wanted. A little tact was necessary. But Corley's brow was
006:054,03['  ]| soon smooth again. His thoughts were running another way.
006:054,04[P  ]| ~~ She is a fine decent tart, 
006:054,04['  ]| he said, with appreciation; 
006:054,04[P  ]| that$6#2$ is
006:054,05[P  ]| what she is.
006:054,06['  ]| They walked along Nassau*Street and then turned into Kildare*Street. 
006:054,07['  ]| Not far from the porch of the club a harpist stood
006:054,08['  ]| in$4$ the roadway, playing to$4$ a little ring of listeners. He plucked
006:054,09['  ]| at the wires heedlessly, glancing quickly from time to$4$ time
006:054,10['  ]| at the face of each new-comer and from time to$4$ time, wearily
006:054,11['  ]| also, at the sky. His harp too, heedless that$3$ her coverings
006:054,12['  ]| had fallen about her knees, seemed weary alike of the eyes of
006:054,13['  ]| strangers and of her master's hands. One hand played in$4$ the
006:054,14['  ]| bass the melody of \Silent,\ \O\ \Moyle\, while the other hand careered
006:054,15['  ]| in$4$ the treble after each group of notes. The notes of
006:054,16['  ]| the air throbbed deep and full.
006:054,17['  ]| The two young men walked up$4$ the street without speaking,
006:054,18['  ]| the mournful music following them. When they reached Stephen's
006:054,19['  ]| Green they crossed the road. Here the noise of trams, the
006:054,20['  ]| lights and the crowd released them from their silence.
006:054,21[P  ]| ~~ There she is! 
006:054,21['  ]| said Corley.
006:054,22['  ]| At the corner of Hume*Street a young woman was standing.
006:054,23['  ]| She wore a blue dress and a white sailor hat. She stood on$4$ the
006:054,24['  ]| curbstone, swinging a sunshade in$4$ one hand. Lenehan grew
006:054,25['  ]| lively.
006:054,26[O  ]| ~~ Let us have a squint at her, Corley, 
006:054,26['  ]| he said.
006:054,27['  ]| Corley glanced sideways at his friend and an unpleasant
006:054,28['  ]| grin appeared on$4$ his face.
006:054,29[P  ]| ~~ Are you trying to$9$ get inside me? 
006:054,29['  ]| he asked.
006:054,30[O  ]| ~~ Damn it! 
006:054,30['  ]| said Lenehan boldly, 
006:054,30[O  ]| I do not want an introduction.
006:054,31[O  ]| All I want is to$9$ have a look at her. I am not going to$9$ eat
006:054,32[O  ]| her.
006:054,33[P  ]| ~~ O ~~ A look at her? 
006:054,33['  ]| said Corley, more amiably. 
006:054,33[P  ]| Well
006:055,01[P  ]| ~~ I will$1$ tell you what. I will$1$ go over and talk to$4$ her and you can
006:055,02[P  ]| pass by$5$.
006:055,03[O  ]| ~~ Right! 
006:055,03['  ]| said Lenehan.
006:055,04['  ]| Corley had already thrown one leg over the chains when
006:055,05['  ]| Lenehan called out:
006:055,06[O  ]| ~~ And after? Where will$1$ we meet?
006:055,07[P  ]| ~~ Half ten, 
006:055,07['  ]| answered Corley, bringing over his other leg.
006:055,08[O  ]| ~~ Where?
006:055,09[P  ]| ~~ Corner of Merrion*Street. We will$1$ be coming back.
006:055,10[O  ]| ~~ Work it all right now, 
006:055,10['  ]| said Lenehan in$4$ farewell.
006:055,11['  ]| Corley did not answer. He sauntered across the road swaying
006:055,12['  ]| his head from side to$4$ side. His bulk, his easy pace, and
006:055,13['  ]| the solid sound of his boots had something of the conqueror
006:055,14['  ]| in$4$ them. He approached the young woman and, without
006:055,15['  ]| saluting, began at once to$9$ converse with her. She swung her
006:055,16['  ]| sunshade more quickly and executed half turns on$4$ her heels.
006:055,17['  ]| Once or twice when he spoke to$4$ her at close quarters she
006:055,18['  ]| laughed and bent her head.
006:055,19['  ]| Lenehan observed them for$4$ a few minutes. Then he
006:055,20['  ]| walked rapidly along beside the chains to$4$ some distance and
006:055,21['  ]| crossed the road obliquely. As he approached Hume*Street
006:055,22['  ]| corner he found the air heavily scented and his eyes made a
006:055,23['  ]| swift anxious scrutiny of the young woman's appearance.
006:055,24['  ]| She had her Sunday finery on$5$. Her blue serge skirt was held
006:055,25['  ]| at the waist by$4$ a belt of black leather. The great silver buckle
006:055,26['  ]| of her belt seemed to$9$ depress the centre of her body, catching
006:055,27['  ]| the light stuff of her white blouse like$4$ a clip. She wore a
006:055,28['  ]| short black jacket with mother-of-pearl buttons and a ragged
006:055,29['  ]| black boa. The ends of her tulle collarette had been carefully
006:055,30['  ]| disordered and a big bunch of red flowers was pinned in$4$
006:055,31['  ]| her bosom, stems upwards. Lenehan's eyes noted approvingly
006:055,32['  ]| her stout short muscular body. Frank rude health glowed in$4$
006:055,33['  ]| her face, on$4$ her fat red cheeks and in$4$ her unabashed blue eyes.
006:056,01['  ]| Her features were blunt. She had broad nostrils, a straggling
006:056,02['  ]| mouth which$6#1$ lay open in$4$ a contented leer, and two projecting
006:056,03['  ]| front teeth. As he passed Lenehan took off his cap and, after
006:056,04['  ]| about ten seconds, Corley returned a salute to$4$ the air. This he
006:056,05['  ]| did by$4$ raising his hand vaguely and pensively changing the
006:056,06['  ]| angle of position of his hat.
006:056,07['  ]| Lenehan walked as far as the Shelbourne*Hotel where he
006:056,08['  ]| halted and waited. After waiting for$4$ a little time he saw them
006:056,09['  ]| coming towards him and, when they turned to$4$ the right, he
006:056,10['  ]| followed them, stepping lightly in$4$ his white shoes, down one
006:056,11['  ]| side of Merrion*Square. As he walked on$5$ slowly, timing his
006:056,12['  ]| pace to$4$ theirs, he watched Corley's head which$6#1$ turned at
006:056,13['  ]| every moment towards the young woman's face like$4$ a big
006:056,14['  ]| ball revolving on$4$ a pivot. He kept the pair in$4$ view until he
006:056,15['  ]| had seen them climbing the stairs of the Donnybrook tram;
006:056,16['  ]| then he turned about and went back the way he had come.
006:056,17['  ]| Now that$3$ he was alone his face looked older. His gaiety
006:056,18['  ]| seemed to$9$ forsake him and, as he came by$4$ the railings of the
006:056,19['  ]| Duke's Lawn, he allowed his hand to$9$ run along them. The air
006:056,20['  ]| which$6#1$ the harpist had played began to$9$ control his movements.
006:056,21['  ]| His softly padded feet played the melody while his
006:056,22['  ]| fingers swept a scale of variations idly along the railings after
006:056,23['  ]| each group of notes.
006:056,24['  ]| He walked listlessly round Stephen's*Green and then down
006:056,25['  ]| Grafton*Street. Though his eyes took note of many elements
006:056,26['  ]| of the crowd through which$6#1$ he passed they did so$5#2$ morosely.
006:056,27['  ]| He found trivial all that$6#1$ was meant to$9$ charm him and did not
006:056,28['  ]| answer the glances which$6#1$ invited him to$9$ be bold. He knew
006:056,29['  ]| that$3$ he would have to$9$ speak a great deal, to$9$ invent and to$9$
006:056,30['  ]| amuse, and his brain and throat were too dry for$4$ such a task.
006:056,31['  ]| The problem of how he could pass the hours till he met Corley
006:056,32['  ]| again troubled him a little. He could think of no$2$ way of
006:056,33['  ]| passing them but to$9$ keep on$5$ walking. He turned to$4$ the left
006:056,34['  ]| when he came to$4$ the corner of Rutland*Square and felt more
006:057,01['  ]| at ease in$4$ the dark quiet street, the sombre look of which$6#1$ suited
006:057,02['  ]| his mood. He paused at last before the window of a poor-looking
006:057,03['  ]| shop over which$6#1$ the words \Refreshment*Bar\ were printed
006:057,04['  ]| in$4$ white letters. On$4$ the glass of the window were two flying
006:057,05['  ]| inscriptions: \Ginger*Beer\ and \Ginger*Ale\. A cut ham was exposed
006:057,06['  ]| on$4$ a great blue dish while near it on$4$ a plate lay a segment
006:057,07['  ]| of very light plum-pudding. He eyed this food earnestly
006:057,08['  ]| for$4$ some time and then, after glancing warily up$4$ and down the
006:057,09['  ]| street, went into the shop quickly.
006:057,10['  ]| He was hungry for$3$, except some biscuits which$6#1$ he had
006:057,11['  ]| asked two grudging curates to$9$ bring him, he had eaten nothing
006:057,12['  ]| since breakfast-time. He sat down at an uncovered
006:057,13['  ]| wooden table opposite two work-girls and a mechanic. A
006:057,14['  ]| slatternly girl waited on$4$ him.
006:057,15[O  ]| ~~ How much is a plate of peas? 
006:057,15['  ]| he asked.
006:057,16[Q  ]| ~~ Three halfpence, sir, 
006:057,16['  ]| said the girl.
006:057,17[P  ]| ~~ Bring me a plate of peas, 
006:057,17['  ]| he said, 
006:057,17[P  ]| and a bottle of ginger
006:057,18[P  ]| beer.
006:057,19['  ]| He spoke roughly in$4$ order to$9$ belie his air of gentility for$3$
006:057,20['  ]| his entry had been followed by$4$ a pause of talk. His face was
006:057,21['  ]| heated. To$9$ appear natural he pushed his cap back on$4$ his head
006:057,22['  ]| and planted his elbows on$4$ the table. The mechanic and the two
006:057,23['  ]| work-girls examined him point by$4$ point before resuming their
006:057,24['  ]| conversation in$4$ a subdued voice. The girl brought him a
006:057,25['  ]| plate of hot grocer's peas, seasoned with pepper and vinegar, a
006:057,26['  ]| fork and his ginger beer. He ate his food greedily and found it
006:057,27['  ]| so$5#1$ good that$3$ he made a note of the shop mentally. When he had
006:057,28['  ]| eaten all the peas he sipped his ginger beer and sat for$4$ some
006:057,29['  ]| time thinking of Corley's adventure. In$4$ his imagination he
006:057,30['  ]| beheld the pair of lovers walking along some dark road; he
006:057,31['  ]| heard Corley's voice in$4$ deep energetic gallantries and saw
006:057,32['  ]| again the leer of the young woman's mouth. This vision made
006:057,33['  ]| him feel keenly his own poverty of purse and spirit. He was
006:057,34['  ]| tired of knocking about, of pulling the devil by$4$ the tail, of
006:058,01['  ]| shifts and intrigues. He would be thirty-one in$4$ November.
006:058,02['  ]| Would he never get a good job? Would he never have a home
006:058,03['  ]| of his own? He thought how pleasant it would be to$9$ have a
006:058,04['  ]| warm fire to$9$ sit by$5$ and a good dinner to$9$ sit down to$4$. He had
006:058,05['  ]| walked the streets long enough with friends and with girls. He
006:058,06['  ]| knew what those friends were worth: he knew the girls too.
006:058,07['  ]| Experience had embittered his heart against the world. But
006:058,08['  ]| all hope had not left him. He felt better after having eaten than
006:058,09['  ]| he had felt before, less weary of his life, less vanquished in$4$
006:058,10['  ]| spirit. He might yet be able to$9$ settle down in$4$ some snug corner
006:058,11['  ]| and live happily if he could only come across some good
006:058,12['  ]| simple-minded girl with a little of the ready.
006:058,13['  ]| He paid twopence halfpenny to$4$ the slatternly girl and went
006:058,14['  ]| out of the shop to$9$ begin his wandering again. He went into
006:058,15['  ]| Capel*Street and walked along towards the City*Hall. Then he
006:058,16['  ]| turned into Dame*Street. At the corner of George's*Street he
006:058,17['  ]| met two friends of his and stopped to$9$ converse with them. He
006:058,18['  ]| was glad that$3$ he could rest from all his walking. His friends
006:058,19['  ]| asked him had he seen Corley and what was the latest. He replied
006:058,20['  ]| that$3$ he had spent the day with Corley. His friends talked
006:058,21['  ]| very little. They looked vacantly after some figures in$4$ the
006:058,22['  ]| crowd and sometimes made a critical remark. One said that$3$
006:058,23['  ]| he had seen Mac an hour before in$4$ Westmoreland*Street. At
006:058,24['  ]| this Lenehan said that$3$ he had been with Mac the night before
006:058,25['  ]| in$4$ Egan's. The young man who$6#1$ had seen Mac in$4$ Westmoreland*Street 
006:058,26['  ]| asked was it true that$3$ Mac had won a bit over a billiard
006:058,27['  ]| match. Lenehan did not know: he said that$3$ Holohan had
006:058,28['  ]| stood them drinks in$4$ Egan's.
006:058,29['  ]| He left his friends at a quarter to$4$ ten and went up$4$ George's*Street. 
006:058,30['  ]| He turned to$4$ the left at the City Markets and walked
006:058,31['  ]| on$5$ into Grafton*Street. The crowd of girls and young men
006:058,32['  ]| had thinned and on$4$ his way up$4$ the street he heard many
006:058,33['  ]| groups and couples bidding one another good-night. He went
006:058,34['  ]| as far as the clock of the College*of*Surgeons: it was on$4$ the
006:059,01['  ]| stroke of ten. He set off briskly along the northern side of
006:059,02['  ]| the Green, hurrying for$4$ fear Corley should return too soon.
006:059,03['  ]| When he reached the corner of Merrion*Street he took his
006:059,04['  ]| stand in$4$ the shadow of a lamp and brought out one of the cigarettes
006:059,05['  ]| which$6#1$ he had reserved and lit it. He leaned against the
006:059,06['  ]| lamp-post and kept his gaze fixed on$4$ the part from which$6#1$ he
006:059,07['  ]| expected to$9$ see Corley and the young woman return.
006:059,08['  ]| His mind became active again. He wondered had Corley
006:059,09['  ]| managed it successfully. He wondered if he had asked her
006:059,10['  ]| yet or if he would leave it to$4$ the last. He suffered all the
006:059,11['  ]| pangs and thrills of his friend's situation as well as those of his
006:059,12['  ]| own. But the memory of Corley's slowly revolving head
006:059,13['  ]| calmed him somewhat: he was sure Corley would pull it
006:059,14['  ]| off all right. All at once the idea struck him that$3$ perhaps Corley
006:059,15['  ]| had seen her home by$4$ another way and given him the slip. His
006:059,16['  ]| eyes searched the street: there was no$2$ sign of them. Yet it was
006:059,17['  ]| surely half-an-hour since he had seen the clock of the College*of*Surgeons. 
006:059,18['  ]| Would Corley do a thing like$4$ that$6#2$? He lit his last
006:059,19['  ]| cigarette and began to$9$ smoke it nervously. He strained his
006:059,20['  ]| eyes as each tram stopped at the far corner of the square. They
006:059,21['  ]| must have gone home by$4$ another way. The paper of his
006:059,22['  ]| cigarette broke and he flung it into the road with a curse.
006:059,23['  ]| Suddenly he saw them coming towards him. He started with
006:059,24['  ]| delight and, keeping close to$4$ his lamp-post, tried to$9$ read the
006:059,25['  ]| result in$4$ their walk. They were walking quickly, the young
006:059,26['  ]| woman taking quick short steps, while Corley kept beside her
006:059,27['  ]| with his long stride. They did not seem to$9$ be speaking. An
006:059,28['  ]| intimation of the result pricked him like$4$ the point of a sharp
006:059,29['  ]| instrument. He knew Corley would fail; he knew it was no$2$ go.
006:059,30['  ]| They turned down Baggot*Street and he followed them
006:059,31['  ]| at once, taking the other footpath. When they stopped he
006:059,32['  ]| stopped too. They talked for$4$ a few moments and then the
006:059,33['  ]| young woman went down the steps into the area of a house.
006:059,34['  ]| Corley remained standing at the edge of the path, a little distance
006:060,01['  ]| from the front steps. Some minutes passed. Then the
006:060,02['  ]| hall-door was opened slowly and cautiously. A woman came
006:060,03['  ]| running down the front steps and coughed. Corley turned
006:060,04['  ]| and went towards her. His broad figure hid hers from view
006:060,05['  ]| for$4$ a few seconds and then she reappeared running up$4$ the
006:060,06['  ]| steps. The door closed on$4$ her and Corley began to$9$ walk
006:060,07['  ]| swiftly towards Stephen's*Green.
006:060,08['  ]| Lenehan hurried on$5$ in$4$ the same direction. Some drops of
006:060,09['  ]| light rain fell. He took them as a warning and, glancing back
006:060,10['  ]| towards the house which$6#1$ the young woman had entered
006:060,11['  ]| to$9$ see that$3$ he was not observed, he ran eagerly across the road.
006:060,12['  ]| Anxiety and his swift run made him pant. He called out:
006:060,13[O  ]| ~~ Hallo, Corley!
006:060,14['  ]| Corley turned his head to$9$ see who$6#1$ had called him, and
006:060,15['  ]| then continued walking as before. Lenehan ran after him, settling
006:060,16['  ]| the waterproof on$4$ his shoulders with one hand.
006:060,17[O  ]| ~~ Hallo, Corley! 
006:060,17['  ]| he cried again.
006:060,18['  ]| He came level with his friend and looked keenly in$4$ his face.
006:060,19['  ]| He could see nothing there.
006:060,20[O  ]| ~~ Well? 
006:060,20['  ]| he said. 
006:060,20[O  ]| Did it come off?
006:060,21['  ]| They had reached the corner of Ely*Place. Still without answering
006:060,22['  ]| Corley swerved to$4$ the left and went up$4$ the side street.
006:060,23['  ]| His features were composed in$4$ stern calm. Lenehan kept up$5$
006:060,24['  ]| with his friend, breathing uneasily. He was baffled and a note
006:060,25['  ]| of menace pierced through his voice.
006:060,26[O  ]| ~~ Can not you tell us? 
006:060,26['  ]| he said. 
006:060,26[O  ]| Did you try her?
006:060,27['  ]| Corley halted at the first lamp and stared grimly before
006:060,28['  ]| him. Then with a grave gesture he extended a hand towards
006:060,29['  ]| the light and, smiling, opened it slowly to$4$ the gaze of his
006:060,30['  ]| disciple. A small gold coin shone in$4$ the palm.
007:061,00@@@@@|
007:061,01['  ]| <THE BOARDING HOUSE>
007:061,02['  ]| Mrs*Mooney was a butcher's daughter. She was a woman
007:061,03['  ]| who$6#1$ was quite able to$9$ keep things to$4$ herself: a determined
007:061,04['  ]| woman. She had married her father's foreman and opened
007:061,05['  ]| a butcher's shop near Spring*Gardens. But as soon as his father-in-law
007:061,06['  ]| was dead Mr*Mooney began to$9$ go to$4$ the devil. He
007:061,07['  ]| drank, plundered the till, ran headlong into debt. It was no$2$
007:061,08['  ]| use making him take the pledge: he was sure to$9$ break out
007:061,09['  ]| again a few days after. By$4$ fighting his wife in$4$ the presence of
007:061,10['  ]| customers and by$4$ buying bad meat he ruined his business.
007:061,11['  ]| One night he went for$4$ his wife with the cleaver and she had
007:061,12['  ]| to$9$ sleep in$4$ a neighbour's house.
007:061,13['  ]| After that$6#2$ they lived apart. She went to$4$ the priest and got
007:061,14['  ]| a separation from him with care of the children. She would
007:061,15['  ]| give him neither money nor food nor house-room; and so$3$ he
007:061,16['  ]| was obliged to$9$ enlist himself as a sheriff's man. He was a shabby
007:061,17['  ]| stooped little drunkard with a white face and a white moustache
007:061,18['  ]| and white eyebrows, pencilled above his little eyes, which$6#1$
007:061,19['  ]| were pink-veined and raw; and all day long he sat in$4$ the bailiff's
007:062,01['  ]| room, waiting to$9$ be put on$5$ a job. Mrs*Mooney, who$6#1$ had
007:062,02['  ]| taken what remained of her money out of the butcher business
007:062,03['  ]| and set up$5$ a boarding house in$4$ Hardwicke*Street, was a big imposing
007:062,04['  ]| woman. Her house had a floating population made up$5$ of
007:062,05['  ]| tourists from Liverpool and the Isle of Man and, occasionally,
007:062,06['  ]| \artistes\ from the music halls. Its resident population was made
007:062,07['  ]| up$5$ of clerks from the city. She governed her house cunningly
007:062,08['  ]| and firmly, knew when to$9$ give credit, when to$9$ be stern and
007:062,09['  ]| when to$9$ let things pass. All the resident young men spoke of
007:062,10['  ]| her as \The\ \Madam\.
007:062,11['  ]| Mrs*Mooney's young men paid fifteen shillings a week for$4$
007:062,12['  ]| board and lodgings (beer or stout at dinner excluded). They
007:062,13['  ]| shared in$4$ common tastes and occupations and for$4$ this reason
007:062,14['  ]| they were very chummy with one another. They discussed
007:062,15['  ]| with one another the chances of favourites and outsiders.
007:062,16['  ]| Jack*Mooney, the Madam's son, who$6#1$ was clerk to$4$ a commission
007:062,17['  ]| agent in$4$ Fleet*Street, had the reputation of being a hard
007:062,18['  ]| case. He was fond of using soldiers' obscenities: usually
007:062,19['  ]| he came home in$4$ the small hours. When he met his friends he
007:062,20['  ]| had always a good one to$9$ tell them and he was always sure to$9$
007:062,21['  ]| be on$5$ to$4$ a good thing ~~ that$6#2$ is to$9$ say, a likely horse or a likely
007:062,22['  ]| \artiste\. He was also handy with the mits and sang comic songs.
007:062,23['  ]| On$4$ Sunday nights there would often be a reunion in$4$ Mrs*Mooney's 
007:062,24['  ]| front drawing-room. The music-hall \artistes\ would
007:062,25['  ]| oblige; and Sheridan played waltzes and polkas and vamped
007:062,26['  ]| accompaniments. Polly*Mooney, the Madam's daughter,
007:062,27['  ]| would also sing. She sang:
007:062,28[Z  ]| \I am a ~~~  naughty girl\.
007:062,29[Z  ]| \You need not sham\:
007:062,30[Z  ]| \You know I am\.
007:062,31['  ]| Polly was a slim girl of nineteen; she had light soft hair and
007:062,32['  ]| a small full mouth. Her eyes, which$6#1$ were grey with a shade
007:062,33['  ]| of green through them, had a habit of glancing upwards when
007:062,34['  ]| she spoke with anyone, which$6#1$ made her look like$4$ a little perverse
007:063,01['  ]| madonna. Mrs*Mooney had first sent her daughter to$9$ be
007:063,02['  ]| a typist in$4$ a corn-factor's office but, as a disreputable sheriff's
007:063,03['  ]| man used to$9$ come every other day to$4$ the office, asking to$9$
007:063,04['  ]| be allowed to$9$ say a word to$4$ his daughter, she had taken her
007:063,05['  ]| daughter home again and set her to$9$ do housework. As Polly
007:063,06['  ]| was very lively the intention was to$9$ give her the run of the
007:063,07['  ]| young men. Besides, young men like$1$ to$9$ feel that$3$ there is a
007:063,08['  ]| young woman not very far away. Polly, of course, flirted
007:063,09['  ]| with the young men but Mrs*Mooney, who$6#1$ was a shrewd judge,
007:063,10['  ]| knew that$3$ the young men were only passing the time away:
007:063,11['  ]| none of them meant business. Things went on$5$ so$5#2$ for$4$ a long
007:063,12['  ]| time and Mrs*Mooney began to$9$ think of sending Polly back to$4$
007:063,13['  ]| typewriting when she noticed that$3$ something was going on$5$ between
007:063,14['  ]| Polly and one of the young men. She watched the pair
007:063,15['  ]| and kept her own counsel.
007:063,16['  ]| Polly knew that$3$ she was being watched, but still her
007:063,17['  ]| mother's persistent silence could not be misunderstood.
007:063,18['  ]| There had been no$2$ open complicity between mother and
007:063,19['  ]| daughter, no$2$ open understanding but, though people in$4$ the
007:063,20['  ]| house began to$9$ talk of the affair, still Mrs*Mooney did not
007:063,21['  ]| intervene. Polly began to$9$ grow a little strange in$4$ her manner
007:063,22['  ]| and the young man was evidently perturbed. At last, when she
007:063,23['  ]| judged it to$9$ be the right moment, Mrs*Mooney intervened. She
007:063,24['  ]| dealt with moral problems as a cleaver deals with meat: and
007:063,25['  ]| in$4$ this case she had made up$5$ her mind.
007:063,26['  ]| It was a bright Sunday morning of early summer, promising
007:063,27['  ]| heat, but with a fresh breeze blowing. All the windows of the
007:063,28['  ]| boarding house were open and the lace curtains ballooned
007:063,29['  ]| gently towards the street beneath the raised sashes. The belfry
007:063,30['  ]| of George's*Church sent out constant peals and worshippers,
007:063,31['  ]| singly or in$4$ groups, traversed the little circus before the
007:063,32['  ]| church, revealing their purpose by$4$ their self-contained demeanour
007:063,33['  ]| no$2$ less than by$4$ the little volumes in$4$ their gloved hands.
007:063,34['  ]| Breakfast was over in$4$ the boarding house and the table of the
007:064,01['  ]| breakfast-room was covered with plates on$4$ which$6#1$ lay yellow
007:064,02['  ]| streaks of eggs with morsels of bacon-fat and bacon-rind. Mrs*Mooney
007:064,03['  ]| sat in$4$ the straw arm-chair and watched the servant
007:064,04['  ]| Mary remove the breakfast things. She made Mary collect the
007:064,05['  ]| crusts and pieces of broken bread to$9$ help to$9$ make Tuesday's
007:064,06['  ]| bread-pudding. When the table was cleared, the broken bread
007:064,07['  ]| collected, the sugar and butter safe under lock and key, she
007:064,08['  ]| began to$9$ reconstruct the interview which$6#1$ she had had the night
007:064,09['  ]| before with Polly. Things were as she had suspected: she had
007:064,10['  ]| been frank in$4$ her questions and Polly had been frank in$4$ her
007:064,11['  ]| answers. Both had been somewhat awkward, of course. She
007:064,12['  ]| had been made awkward by$4$ her not wishing to$9$ receive the
007:064,13['  ]| news in$4$ too cavalier a fashion or to$9$ seem to$9$ have connived and
007:064,14['  ]| Polly had been made awkward not merely because allusions
007:064,15['  ]| of that$6#2$ kind always made her awkward but also because she
007:064,16['  ]| did not wish it to$9$ be thought that$3$ in$4$ her wise innocence she
007:064,17['  ]| had divined the intention behind her mother's tolerance.
007:064,18['  ]| Mrs*Mooney glanced instinctively at the little gilt clock on$4$
007:064,19['  ]| the mantelpiece as soon as she had become aware through her
007:064,20['  ]| revery that$3$ the bells of George's*Church had stopped ringing.
007:064,21['  ]| It was seventeen minutes past eleven: she would have lots
007:064,22['  ]| of time to$9$ have the matter out with Mr*Doran and then catch
007:064,23['  ]| short twelve at Marlborough*Street. She was sure she would
007:064,24['  ]| win. To$9$ begin with she had all the weight of social opinion on$4$
007:064,25['  ]| her side: she was an outraged mother. She had allowed him to$9$
007:064,26['  ]| live beneath her roof, assuming that$3$ he was a man of honour,
007:064,27['  ]| and he had simply abused her hospitality. He was thirty-four
007:064,28['  ]| or thirty-five years of age, so$3$ that$3$ youth could not be pleaded
007:064,29['  ]| as his excuse; nor could ignorance be his excuse since he was a
007:064,30['  ]| man who$6#1$ had seen something of the world. He had simply
007:064,31['  ]| taken advantage of Polly's youth and inexperience: that$6#2$ was
007:064,32['  ]| evident. The question was: What reparation would he make?
007:064,33['  ]| There must be reparation made in$4$ such cases. It is all very
007:064,34['  ]| well for$4$ the man: he can go his ways as if nothing had happened,
007:065,01['  ]| having had his moment of pleasure, but the girl has to$9$
007:065,02['  ]| bear the brunt. Some mothers would be content to$9$ patch up$5$
007:065,03['  ]| such an affair for$4$ a sum of money; she had known cases of it.
007:065,04['  ]| But she would not do so$5#2$. For$4$ her only one reparation could
007:065,05['  ]| make up$5$ for$4$ the loss of her daughter's honour: marriage.
007:065,06['  ]| She counted all her cards again before sending Mary up$5$ to$4$
007:065,07['  ]| Mr*Doran's room to$9$ say that$3$ she wished to$9$ speak with him. She
007:065,08['  ]| felt sure she would win. He was a serious young man, not
007:065,09['  ]| rakish or loud-voiced like$4$ the others. If it had been Mr*Sheridan
007:065,10['  ]| or Mr*Meade or Bantam Lyons her task would have been
007:065,11['  ]| much harder. She did not think he would face publicity. All
007:065,12['  ]| the lodgers in$4$ the house knew something of the affair; details
007:065,13['  ]| had been invented by$4$ some. Besides, he had been employed
007:065,14['  ]| for$4$ thirteen years in$4$ a great Catholic wine-merchant's office
007:065,15['  ]| and publicity would mean for$4$ him, perhaps, the loss of his sit.
007:065,16['  ]| Whereas if he agreed all might be well. She knew he had a
007:065,17['  ]| good screw for$4$ one thing and she suspected he had a bit of
007:065,18['  ]| stuff put by$5$.
007:065,19['  ]| Nearly the half-hour! She stood up$5$ and surveyed herself
007:065,20['  ]| in$4$ the pier-glass. The decisive expression of her great florid
007:065,21['  ]| face satisfied her and she thought of some mothers she knew
007:065,22['  ]| who$6#1$ could not get their daughters off their hands.
007:065,23['  ]| Mr*Doran was very anxious indeed this Sunday morning.
007:065,24['  ]| He had made two attempts to$9$ shave but his hand had been so$5#1$
007:065,25['  ]| unsteady that$3$ he had been obliged to$9$ desist. Three days' reddish
007:065,26['  ]| beard fringed his jaws and every two or three minutes a
007:065,27['  ]| mist gathered on$4$ his glasses so$3$ that$3$ he had to$9$ take them off and
007:065,28['  ]| polish them with his pocket-handkerchief. The recollection
007:065,29['  ]| of his confession of the night before was a cause of acute pain
007:065,30['  ]| to$4$ him; the priest had drawn out every ridiculous detail of
007:065,31['  ]| the affair and in$4$ the end had so$5#1$ magnified his sin that$3$ he was
007:065,32['  ]| almost thankful at being afforded a loophole of reparation.
007:065,33['  ]| The harm was done. What could he do now but marry her or
007:065,34['  ]| run away? He could not brazen it out. The affair would be
007:066,01['  ]| sure to$9$ be talked of and his employer would be certain to$9$
007:066,02['  ]| hear of it. Dublin is such a small city: everyone knows everyone
007:066,03['  ]| else's business. He felt his heart leap warmly in$4$ his throat
007:066,04['  ]| as he heard in$4$ his excited imagination old Mr*Leonard calling
007:066,05['  ]| out in$4$ his rasping voice: 
007:066,05[V  ]| \Send\ \Mr*Doran\ \here\, \please\.
007:066,06['  ]| All his long years of service gone for$4$ nothing! All his industry
007:066,07['  ]| and diligence thrown away! As a young man he had sown
007:066,08['  ]| his wild oats, of course; he had boasted of his free-thinking
007:066,09['  ]| and denied the existence of God to$4$ his companions in$4$ public-houses.
007:066,10['  ]| But that$6#2$ was all passed and done with ~~~ nearly. He
007:066,11['  ]| still bought a copy of \Reynolds's*Newspaper\ every week but
007:066,12['  ]| he attended to$4$ his religious duties and for$4$ nine-tenths of the
007:066,13['  ]| year lived a regular life. He had money enough to$9$ settle down
007:066,14['  ]| on$4$; it was not that$6#2$. But the family would look down on$4$ her.
007:066,15['  ]| First of all there was her disreputable father and then her
007:066,16['  ]| mother's boarding house was beginning to$9$ get a certain fame.
007:066,17['  ]| He had a notion that$3$ he was being had. He could imagine his
007:066,18['  ]| friends talking of the affair and laughing. She \was\ a little vulgar;
007:066,19['  ]| sometimes she said \I\ \seen\ and \If\ \I\ \had have\ \known\. But what
007:066,20['  ]| would grammar matter if he really loved her? He could not
007:066,21['  ]| make up$5$ his mind whether to$9$ like$1$ her or despise her for$4$ what
007:066,22['  ]| she had done. Of course, he had done it too. His instinct urged
007:066,23['  ]| him to$9$ remain free, not to$9$ marry. Once you are married you
007:066,24['  ]| are done for$5$, it said.
007:066,25['  ]| While he was sitting helplessly on$4$ the side of the bed in$4$ shirt
007:066,26['  ]| and trousers she tapped lightly at his door and entered. She
007:066,27['  ]| told him all, that$3$ she had made a clean breast of it to$4$ her
007:066,28['  ]| mother and that$3$ her mother would speak with him that$6#2$ morning.
007:066,29['  ]| She cried and threw her arms round his neck, saying:
007:066,30[R  ]| ~~ O, Bob! Bob! What am I to$9$ do? What am I to$9$ do at all?
007:066,31@r   | She would put an end to$4$ herself, 
007:066,31['  ]| she said.
007:066,32['  ]| He comforted her feebly, telling her not to$9$ cry, that$3$ it
007:066,33['  ]| would be all right, never fear. He felt against his shirt the
007:066,34['  ]| agitation of her bosom.
007:067,01['  ]| It was not altogether his fault that$3$ it had happened. He remembered
007:067,02['  ]| well, with the curious patient memory of the celibate,
007:067,03['  ]| the first casual caresses her dress, her breath, her fingers
007:067,04['  ]| had given him. Then late one night as he was undressing for$4$
007:067,05['  ]| bed she had tapped at his door, timidly. She wanted to$9$ relight
007:067,06['  ]| her candle at his for$3$ hers had been blown out by$4$ a gust.
007:067,07['  ]| It was her bath night. She wore a loose open combing-jacket
007:067,08['  ]| of printed flannel. Her white instep shone in$4$ the opening of
007:067,09['  ]| her furry slippers and the blood glowed warmly behind her
007:067,10['  ]| perfumed skin. From her hands and wrists too as she lit and
007:067,11['  ]| steadied her candle a faint perfume arose.
007:067,12['  ]| On$4$ nights when he came in$5$ very late it was she who$6#1$ warmed
007:067,13['  ]| up$5$ his dinner. He scarcely knew what he was eating, feeling
007:067,14['  ]| her beside him alone, at night, in$4$ the sleeping house. And her
007:067,15['  ]| thoughtfulness! If the night was anyway cold or wet or windy
007:067,16['  ]| there was sure to$9$ be a little tumbler of punch ready for$4$ him.
007:067,17@s   | Perhaps they could be happy together.~~~
007:067,18['  ]| They used to$9$ go upstairs together on$4$ tiptoe, each with a
007:067,19['  ]| candle, and on$4$ the third landing exchange reluctant good-nights.
007:067,20['  ]| They used to$9$ kiss. He remembered well her eyes, the
007:067,21['  ]| touch of her hand and his delirium.~~~
007:067,22['  ]| But delirium passes. He echoed her phrase, applying it to$4$
007:067,23['  ]| himself: 
007:067,23@r   | \What\ \am\ \I\ \to$9$\ \do\? 
007:067,23['  ]| The instinct of the celibate warned
007:067,24['  ]| him to$9$ hold back. But the sin was there; even his sense of honour
007:067,25['  ]| told him that$3$ reparation must be made for$4$ such a sin.
007:067,26['  ]| While he was sitting with her on$4$ the side of the bed Mary
007:067,27['  ]| came to$4$ the door and said that$3$ the missus wanted to$9$ see him
007:067,28['  ]| in$4$ the parlour. He stood up$5$ to$9$ put on$5$ his coat and waistcoat,
007:067,29['  ]| more helpless than ever. When he was dressed he went over
007:067,30['  ]| to$4$ her to$9$ comfort her. It would be all right, never fear. He
007:067,31['  ]| left her crying on$4$ the bed and moaning softly: 
007:067,31[R  ]| \O\ \my\ \God\!
007:067,32['  ]| Going down the stairs his glasses became so$5#1$ dimmed with
007:067,33['  ]| moisture that$3$ he had to$9$ take them off and polish them. He
007:067,34['  ]| longed to$9$ ascend through the roof and fly away to$4$ another
007:068,01['  ]| country where he would never hear again of his trouble, and
007:068,02['  ]| yet a force pushed him downstairs step by$4$ step. The implacable
007:068,03['  ]| faces of his employer and of the Madam stared upon$4$ his
007:068,04['  ]| discomfiture. On$4$ the last flight of stairs he passed Jack Mooney
007:068,05['  ]| who$6#1$ was coming up$5$ from the pantry nursing two bottles
007:068,06['  ]| of \Bass\. They saluted coldly; and the lover's eyes rested for$4$ a
007:068,07['  ]| second or two on$4$ a thick bulldog face and a pair of thick short
007:068,08['  ]| arms. When he reached the foot of the staircase he glanced up$5$
007:068,09['  ]| and saw Jack regarding him from the door of the return-room.
007:068,10['  ]| Suddenly he remembered the night when one of the music-hall
007:068,11['  ]| \artistes\, a little blond Londoner, had made a rather free
007:068,12['  ]| allusion to$4$ Polly. The reunion had been almost broken up$5$ on$4$
007:068,13['  ]| account of Jack's violence. Everyone tried to$9$ quiet him. The
007:068,14['  ]| music-hall \artiste\, a little paler than usual, kept smiling and
007:068,15['  ]| saying that$3$ there was no$2$ harm meant: but Jack kept shouting
007:068,16['  ]| at him that$3$ if any fellow tried that$6#2$ sort of a game on$5$ with \his\
007:068,17['  ]| sister he would bloody well put his teeth down his throat, so$3$ he
007:068,18['  ]| would.
007:068,19['  ]| 
007:068,20['  ]| Polly sat for$4$ a little time on$4$ the side of the bed, crying.
007:068,21['  ]| Then she dried her eyes and went over to$4$ the looking-glass.
007:068,22['  ]| She dipped the end of the towel in$4$ the water-jug and refreshed
007:068,23['  ]| her eyes with the cool water. She looked at herself in$4$
007:068,24['  ]| profile and readjusted a hairpin above her ear. Then she went
007:068,25['  ]| back to$4$ the bed again and sat at the foot. She regarded the pillows
007:068,26['  ]| for$4$ a long time and the sight of them awakened in$4$ her
007:068,27['  ]| mind secret amiable memories. She rested the nape of her neck
007:068,28['  ]| against the cool iron bed-rail and fell into a revery. There
007:068,29['  ]| was no$2$ longer any perturbation visible on$4$ her face.
007:068,30['  ]| She waited on$5$ patiently, almost cheerfully, without alarm,
007:068,31['  ]| her memories gradually giving place to$4$ hopes and visions
007:068,32['  ]| of the future. Her hopes and visions were so$5#1$ intricate
007:068,33['  ]| that$3$ she no$2$ longer saw the white pillows on$4$ which$6#1$ her gaze
007:068,34['  ]| was fixed or remembered that$3$ she was waiting for$4$ anything.
007:069,01['  ]| At last she heard her mother calling. She started to$4$ her feet
007:069,02['  ]| and ran to$4$ the banisters.
007:069,03[W  ]| ~~ Polly! Polly!
007:069,04[R  ]| ~~ Yes, mamma?
007:069,05[W  ]| ~~ Come down, dear. Mr*Doran wants to$9$ speak to$4$ you.
007:069,06['  ]| Then she remembered what she had been waiting for$4$.
008:070,00@@@@@|
008:070,01['  ]| <A LITTLE CLOUD>
008:070,02['  ]| Eight years before he had seen his friend off at the North
008:070,03['  ]| Wall and wished him godspeed. Gallaher had got on$5$. You
008:070,04['  ]| could tell that$6#2$ at once by$4$ his travelled air, his well-cut tweed
008:070,05['  ]| suit and fearless accent. Few fellows had talents like$4$ his and
008:070,06['  ]| fewer still could remain unspoiled by$4$ such success. Gallaher's
008:070,07['  ]| heart was in$4$ the right place and he had deserved to$9$ win. It
008:070,08['  ]| was something to$9$ have a friend like$4$ that$6#2$.
008:070,09['  ]| Little*Chandler's thoughts ever since lunch-time had been
008:070,10['  ]| of his meeting with Gallaher, of Gallaher's invitation and of
008:070,11['  ]| the great city London where Gallaher lived. He was called
008:070,12['  ]| Little*Chandler because, though he was but slightly under the
008:070,13['  ]| average stature, he gave one the idea of being a little man. His
008:070,14['  ]| hands were white and small, his frame was fragile, his voice
008:070,15['  ]| was quiet and his manners were refined. He took the greatest
008:070,16['  ]| care of his fair silken hair and moustache and used perfume
008:070,17['  ]| discreetly on$4$ his handkerchief. The half-moons of his nails
008:070,18['  ]| were perfect and when he smiled you caught a glimpse of a
008:070,19['  ]| row of childish white teeth.
008:071,01['  ]| As he sat at his desk in$4$ the King's*Inns he thought what
008:071,02['  ]| changes those eight years had brought. The friend whom he
008:071,03['  ]| had known under a shabby and necessitous guise had become
008:071,04['  ]| a brilliant figure on$4$ the London Press. He turned often from
008:071,05['  ]| his tiresome writing to$9$ gaze out of the office window. The
008:071,06['  ]| glow of a late autumn sunset covered the grass plots and
008:071,07['  ]| walks. It cast a shower of kindly golden dust on$4$ the untidy
008:071,08['  ]| nurses and decrepit old men who$6#1$ drowsed on$4$ the benches; it
008:071,09['  ]| flickered upon$4$ all the moving figures ~~ on$4$ the children who$6#1$
008:071,10['  ]| ran screaming along the gravel paths and on$4$ everyone who$6#1$
008:071,11['  ]| passed through the gardens. He watched the scene and
008:071,12['  ]| thought of life; and (as always happened when he thought of
008:071,13['  ]| life) he became sad. A gentle melancholy took possession of
008:071,14['  ]| him. He felt how useless it was to$9$ struggle against fortune,
008:071,15['  ]| this being the burden of wisdom which$6#1$ the ages had bequeathed
008:071,16['  ]| to$4$ him.
008:071,17['  ]| He remembered the books of poetry upon$4$ his shelves at
008:071,18['  ]| home. He had bought them in$4$ his bachelor days and many an
008:071,19['  ]| evening, as he sat in$4$ the little room off the hall, he had been
008:071,20['  ]| tempted to$9$ take one down from the bookshelf and read out
008:071,21['  ]| something to$4$ his wife. But shyness had always held him back;
008:071,22['  ]| and so$3$ the books had remained on$4$ their shelves. At times he
008:071,23['  ]| repeated lines to$4$ himself and this consoled him.
008:071,24['  ]| When his hour had struck he stood up$5$ and took leave of
008:071,25['  ]| his desk and of his fellow-clerks punctiliously. He emerged
008:071,26['  ]| from under the feudal arch of the King's*Inns, a neat modest
008:071,27['  ]| figure, and walked swiftly down Henrietta*Street. The golden
008:071,28['  ]| sunset was waning and the air had grown sharp. A horde of
008:071,29['  ]| grimy children populated the street. They stood or ran in$4$ the
008:071,30['  ]| roadway or crawled up$4$ the steps before the gaping doors or
008:071,31['  ]| squatted like$4$ mice upon$4$ the thresholds. Little*Chandler gave
008:071,32['  ]| them no$2$ thought. He picked his way deftly through all that$6#2$
008:071,33['  ]| minute vermin-like life and under the shadow of the gaunt
008:071,34['  ]| spectral mansions in$4$ which$6#1$ the old nobility of Dublin had roistered.
008:072,01['  ]| No$2$ memory of the past touched him, for$3$ his mind was
008:072,02['  ]| full of a present joy.
008:072,03['  ]| He had never been in$4$ Corless's but he knew the value of
008:072,04['  ]| the name. He knew that$3$ people went there after the theatre
008:072,05['  ]| to$9$ eat oysters and drink liqueurs; and he had heard that$3$ the
008:072,06['  ]| waiters there spoke French and German. Walking swiftly
008:072,07['  ]| by$5$ at night he had seen cabs drawn up$5$ before the door and
008:072,08['  ]| richly dressed ladies, escorted by$4$ cavaliers, alight and enter
008:072,09['  ]| quickly. They wore noisy dresses and many wraps. Their
008:072,10['  ]| faces were powdered and they caught up$5$ their dresses, when
008:072,11['  ]| they touched earth, like$4$ alarmed Atalantas. He had always
008:072,12['  ]| passed without turning his head to$9$ look. It was his habit to$9$
008:072,13['  ]| walk swiftly in$4$ the street even by$4$ day and whenever he found
008:072,14['  ]| himself in$4$ the city late at night he hurried on$4$ his way apprehensively
008:072,15['  ]| and excitedly. Sometimes, however, he courted the
008:072,16['  ]| causes of his fear. He chose the darkest and narrowest streets
008:072,17['  ]| and, as he walked boldly forward, the silence that$6#1$ was spread
008:072,18['  ]| about his footsteps troubled him, the wandering silent figures
008:072,19['  ]| troubled him; and at times a sound of low fugitive laughter
008:072,20['  ]| made him tremble like$4$ a leaf.
008:072,21['  ]| He turned to$4$ the right towards Capel*Street. Ignatius*Gallaher
008:072,22['  ]| on$4$ the London*Press! Who$6#2$ would have thought it possible
008:072,23['  ]| eight years before? Still, now that$3$ he reviewed the past, Little*Chandler 
008:072,24['  ]| could remember many signs of future greatness in$4$
008:072,25['  ]| his friend. People used to$9$ say that$3$ Ignatius*Gallaher was wild.
008:072,26['  ]| Of course, he did mix with a rakish set of fellows at that$6#2$ time,
008:072,27['  ]| drank freely and borrowed money on$4$ all sides. In$4$ the end he
008:072,28['  ]| had got mixed up$5$ in$4$ some shady affair, some money transaction:
008:072,29['  ]| at least, that$6#2$ was one version of his flight. But nobody
008:072,30['  ]| denied him talent. There was always a certain ~~ something
008:072,31['  ]| in$4$ Ignatius*Gallaher that$6#1$ impressed you in$4$ spite of yourself.
008:072,32['  ]| Even when he was out at elbows and at his wits' end for$4$ money
008:072,33['  ]| he kept up$5$ a bold face. Little*Chandler remembered (and the
008:073,01['  ]| remembrance brought a slight flush of pride to$4$ his cheek) one
008:073,02['  ]| of Ignatius*Gallaher's sayings when he was in$4$ a tight corner:
008:073,03[E  ]| ~~ Half time, now, boys, 
008:073,03['  ]| he used to$9$ say light-heartedly.
008:073,04[E  ]| Where is my considering cap?
008:073,05['  ]| That$6#2$ was Ignatius*Gallaher all out; and, damn it, you
008:073,06['  ]| could not but admire him for$4$ it.
008:073,07['  ]| Little*Chandler quickened his pace. For$4$ the first time in$4$
008:073,08['  ]| his life he felt himself superior to$4$ the people he passed. For$4$
008:073,09['  ]| the first time his soul revolted against the dull inelegance of
008:073,10['  ]| Capel*Street. There was no$2$ doubt about it: if you wanted to$9$
008:073,11['  ]| succeed you had to$9$ go away. You could do nothing in$4$ Dublin.
008:073,12['  ]| As he crossed Grattan*Bridge he looked down the river
008:073,13['  ]| towards the lower quays and pitied the poor stunted houses.
008:073,14['  ]| They seemed to$4$ him a band of tramps, huddled together along
008:073,15['  ]| the river-banks, their old coats covered with dust and soot,
008:073,16['  ]| stupefied by$4$ the panorama of sunset and waiting for$4$ the first
008:073,17['  ]| chill of night to$9$ bid them arise, shake themselves and begone.
008:073,18['  ]| He wondered whether he could write a poem to$9$ express his
008:073,19['  ]| idea. Perhaps Gallaher might be able to$9$ get it into some London
008:073,20['  ]| paper for$4$ him. Could he write something original? He
008:073,21['  ]| was not sure what idea he wished to$9$ express but the thought
008:073,22['  ]| that$3$ a poetic moment had touched him took life within him
008:073,23['  ]| like$4$ an infant hope. He stepped onward bravely.
008:073,24['  ]| Every step brought him nearer to$4$ London, farther from his
008:073,25['  ]| own sober inartistic life. A light began to$9$ tremble on$4$ the horizon
008:073,26['  ]| of his mind. He was not so$5#1$ old ~~ thirty-two. His temperament
008:073,27['  ]| might be said to$9$ be just at the point of maturity. There
008:073,28['  ]| were so$5#1$ many different moods and impressions that$6#1$ he wished
008:073,29['  ]| to$9$ express in$4$ verse. He felt them within him. He tried to$9$
008:073,30['  ]| weigh his soul to$9$ see if it was a poet's soul. Melancholy was
008:073,31['  ]| the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was
008:073,32['  ]| a melancholy tempered by$4$ recurrences of faith and resignation
008:073,33['  ]| and simple joy. If he could give expression to$4$ it in$4$ a book
008:074,01['  ]| of poems perhaps men would listen. He would never be popular:
008:074,02['  ]| he saw that$6#2$. He could not sway the crowd but he might
008:074,03['  ]| appeal to$4$ a little circle of kindred minds. The English critics,
008:074,04['  ]| perhaps, would recognise him as one of the Celtic school by$4$
008:074,05['  ]| reason of the melancholy tone of his poems; besides that$6#2$,
008:074,06['  ]| he would put in$4$ allusions. He began to$9$ invent sentences and
008:074,07['  ]| phrases from the notices which$6#1$ his book would get. 
008:074,07[Z  ]| \Mr\ \Chandler\
008:074,08[Z  ]| \has\ \the\ \gift\ \of\ \easy\ \and\ \graceful\ \verse.\ ~~ \A\ \wistful\ \sadness\
008:074,09[Z  ]| \pervades\ \these\ \poems\. ~~ \The\ \Celtic\ \note\. 
008:074,09['  ]| It was a pity
008:074,10['  ]| his name was not more Irish-looking. Perhaps it would be
008:074,11['  ]| better to$9$ insert his mother's name before the surname: Thomas*Malone*Chandler, 
008:074,12['  ]| or better still: T%*Malone*Chandler. He
008:074,13['  ]| would speak to$4$ Gallaher about it.
008:074,14['  ]| He pursued his revery so$5#1$ ardently that$3$ he passed his street
008:074,15['  ]| and had to$9$ turn back. As he came near Corless's his former
008:074,16['  ]| agitation began to$9$ overmaster him and he halted before the
008:074,17['  ]| door in$4$ indecision. Finally he opened the door and entered.
008:074,18['  ]| The light and noise of the bar held him at the doorway for$4$
008:074,19['  ]| a few moments. He looked about him, but his sight was confused
008:074,20['  ]| by$4$ the shining of many red and green wine-glasses.
008:074,21['  ]| The bar seemed to$4$ him to$9$ be full of people and he felt that$3$
008:074,22['  ]| the people were observing him curiously. He glanced quickly
008:074,23['  ]| to$4$ right and left (frowning slightly to$9$ make his errand appear
008:074,24['  ]| serious), but when his sight cleared a little he saw that$3$ nobody
008:074,25['  ]| had turned to$9$ look at him: and there, sure enough, was Ignatius*Gallaher 
008:074,26['  ]| leaning with his back against the counter and
008:074,27['  ]| his feet planted far apart.
008:074,28[E  ]| ~~ Hallo, Tommy, old hero, here you are! What is it to$9$ be?
008:074,29[E  ]| What will$1$ you have? I am taking whisky: better stuff than we
008:074,30[E  ]| get across the water. Soda? Lithia? No$2$ mineral? I am the same.
008:074,31[E  ]| Spoils the flavour. ~~ Here, \garc^on\, bring us two halves
008:074,32[E  ]| of malt whisky, like$4$ a good fellow. ~~ Well, and how have
008:074,33[E  ]| you been pulling along since I saw you last? Dear God, how
008:075,01[E  ]| old we are getting! Do you see any signs of aging in$4$ me ~~ eh,
008:075,02[E  ]| what? A little grey and thin on$4$ the top ~~ what?
008:075,03['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher took off his hat and displayed a large
008:075,04['  ]| closely cropped head. His face was heavy, pale and clean-shaven.
008:075,05['  ]| His eyes, which$6#1$ were of bluish slate-colour, relieved
008:075,06['  ]| his unhealthy pallor and shone out plainly above the vivid
008:075,07['  ]| orange tie he wore. Between these rival features the lips appeared
008:075,08['  ]| very long and shapeless and colourless. He bent his
008:075,09['  ]| head and felt with two sympathetic fingers the thin hair at the
008:075,10['  ]| crown. Little*Chandler shook his head as a denial. Ignatius*Gallaher 
008:075,11['  ]| put on$5$ his hat again.
008:075,12[E  ]| ~~ It pulls you down, 
008:075,12['  ]| he said, 
008:075,12[E  ]| Press life. Always hurry and
008:075,13[E  ]| scurry, looking for$4$ copy and sometimes not finding it: and
008:075,14[E  ]| then, always to$9$ have something new in$4$ your stuff. Damn
008:075,15[E  ]| proofs and printers, I say, for$4$ a few days. I am deuced glad, I
008:075,16[E  ]| can tell you, to$9$ get back to$4$ the old country. Does a fellow
008:075,17[E  ]| good, a bit of a holiday. I feel a ton better since I landed again
008:075,18[E  ]| in$4$ dear dirty Dublin. ~~ Here you are, Tommy. Water? Say
008:075,19[E  ]| when.
008:075,20['  ]| Little*Chandler allowed his whisky to$9$ be very much diluted.
008:075,21[E  ]| ~~ You do not know what is good for$4$ you, my boy, 
008:075,21['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher. 
008:075,22[E  ]| I drink mine neat.
008:075,23[F  ]| ~~ I drink very little as a rule, 
008:075,23['  ]| said Little*Chandler modestly.
008:075,24[F  ]| An odd half-one or so$5#2$ when I meet any of the old crowd:
008:075,25[F  ]| that$6#2$ is all.
008:075,26[E  ]| ~~ Ah, well, 
008:075,26['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, cheerfully, 
008:075,26[E  ]| here is to$4$ us
008:075,27[E  ]| and to$4$ old times and old acquaintance.
008:075,28['  ]| They clinked glasses and drank the toast.
008:075,29[E  ]| ~~ I met some of the old gang to-day, 
008:075,29['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher.
008:075,30[E  ]| O'Hara seems to$9$ be in$4$ a bad way. What is he doing?
008:075,31[F  ]| ~~ Nothing, 
008:075,31['  ]| said Little*Chandler. 
008:075,31[F  ]| He has gone to$4$ the dogs.
008:075,32[E  ]| ~~ But Hogan has a good sit, has not he?
008:075,33[F  ]| ~~ Yes; he is in$4$ the Land*Commission.
008:076,01[E  ]| ~~ I met him one night in$4$ London and he seemed to$9$ be very
008:076,02[E  ]| flush. ~~ Poor O'Hara! Boose, I suppose?
008:076,03[F  ]| ~~ Other things, too, 
008:076,03['  ]| said Little*Chandler shortly.
008:076,04['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher laughed.
008:076,05[E  ]| ~~ Tommy, 
008:076,05['  ]| he said, 
008:076,05[E ]| I see you have not changed an atom.
008:076,06[E  ]| You are the very same serious person that$6#1$ used to$9$ lecture me
008:076,07[E  ]| on$4$ Sunday mornings when I had a sore head and a fur on$4$ my
008:076,08[E  ]| tongue. You would want to$9$ knock about a bit in$4$ the world. Have
008:076,09[E  ]| you never been anywhere, even for$4$ a trip?
008:076,10[F  ]| ~~ I have been to$4$ the Isle*of*Man, 
008:076,10['  ]| said Little*Chandler.
008:076,11['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher laughed.
008:076,12[E  ]| ~~ The Isle*of*Man! 
008:076,12['  ]| he said. 
008:076,12[E  ]| Go to$4$ London or Paris: Paris,
008:076,13[E  ]| for$4$ choice. That$6#2$ would do you good.
008:076,14[F  ]| ~~ Have you seen Paris?
008:076,15[E  ]| ~~ I should think I have! I have knocked about there a little.
008:076,16[F  ]| ~~ And is it really so$5#1$ beautiful as they say? 
008:076,16['  ]| asked Little*Chandler.
008:076,17['  ]| He sipped a little of his drink while Ignatius*Gallaher finished
008:076,18['  ]| his boldly.
008:076,19[E  ]| ~~ Beautiful? 
008:076,19['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, pausing on$4$ the word
008:076,20['  ]| and on$4$ the flavour of his drink. 
008:076,20[E  ]| It is not so$5#1$ beautiful, you know.
008:076,21[E  ]| Of course, it is beautiful. ~~ But it is the life of Paris; that$6#2$ is
008:076,22[E  ]| the thing. Ah, there is no$2$ city like$4$ Paris for$4$ gaiety, movement,
008:076,23[E  ]| excitement. ~~
008:076,24['  ]| Little*Chandler finished his whisky and, after some trouble,
008:076,25['  ]| succeeded in$4$ catching the barman's eye. He ordered the same again.
008:076,26[E  ]| ~~ I have been to$4$ the Moulin*Rouge, 
008:076,26['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher continued
008:076,27['  ]| when the barman had removed their glasses, 
008:076,27[E  ]| and I have
008:076,28[E  ]| been to$4$ all the Bohemian cafe=s. Hot stuff! Not for$4$ a pious
008:076,29[E  ]| chap like$4$ you, Tommy.
008:076,30['  ]| Little*Chandler said nothing until the barman returned
008:076,31['  ]| with the two glasses: then he touched his friend's glass lightly
008:076,32['  ]| and reciprocated the former toast. He was beginning to$9$ feel
008:077,01['  ]| somewhat disillusioned. Gallaher's accent and way of expressing
008:077,02['  ]| himself did not please him. There was something
008:077,03['  ]| vulgar in$4$ his friend which$6#1$ he had not observed before. But
008:077,04['  ]| perhaps it was only the result of living in$4$ London amid the
008:077,05['  ]| bustle and competition of the Press. The old personal charm
008:077,06['  ]| was still there under this new gaudy manner. And, after all,
008:077,07['  ]| Gallaher had lived, he had seen the world. Little*Chandler
008:077,08['  ]| looked at his friend enviously.
008:077,09[E  ]| ~~ Everything in$4$ Paris is gay, 
008:077,09['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher. 
008:077,09[E  ]| They
008:077,10[E  ]| believe in$4$ enjoying life ~~ and do not you think they are right?
008:077,11[E  ]| If you want to$9$ enjoy yourself properly you must go to$4$ Paris.
008:077,12[E  ]| And, mind you, they have a great feeling for$4$ the Irish there.
008:077,13[E  ]| When they heard I was from Ireland they were ready to$9$ eat
008:077,14[E  ]| me, man.
008:077,15['  ]| Little*Chandler took four or five sips from his glass.
008:077,16[F  ]| ~~ Tell me, 
008:077,16['  ]| he said, 
008:077,16[F  ]| is it true that$3$ Paris is so$5#1$ ~~ immoral
008:077,17[F  ]| as they say?
008:077,18['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher made a catholic gesture with his right arm.
008:077,19[E  ]| ~~ Every place is immoral, 
008:077,19['  ]| he said. 
008:077,19[E  ]| Of course you do find
008:077,20[E  ]| spicy bits in$4$ Paris. Go to$4$ one of the students' balls, for$4$ instance.
008:077,21[E  ]| That$6#2$ is lively, if you like$1$, when the \cocottes\ begin to$9$
008:077,22[E  ]| let themselves loose. You know what they are, I suppose?
008:077,23[F  ]| ~~ I have heard of them, 
008:077,23['  ]| said Little*Chandler.
008:077,24['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher drank off his whisky and shook his head.
008:077,25[E  ]| ~~ Ah, he said, you may say what you like$1$. There is no$2$
008:077,26[E  ]| woman like$4$ the Parisienne ~~ for$4$ style, for$4$ go.
008:077,27[F  ]| ~~ Then it is an immoral city, 
008:077,27['  ]| said Little*Chandler, with
008:077,28['  ]| timid insistence 
008:077,28[F  ]| ~~ I mean, compared with London or Dublin?
008:077,29[E  ]| ~~ London! 
008:077,29['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher. 
008:077,29[E  ]| It is six of one and half-a-dozen
008:077,30[E  ]| of the other. You ask Hogan, my boy. I showed him a
008:077,31[E  ]| bit about London when he was over there. He would open your eye. ~~
008:077,32[E  ]| I say, Tommy, do not make punch of that$6#2$ whisky: liquor
008:077,33[E  ]| up$5$.
008:077,34[F  ]| ~~ No$7$, really. ~~
008:078,01[E  ]| ~~ O, come on$5$, another one will$1$ not do you any harm. What
008:078,02[E  ]| is it? The same again, I suppose?
008:078,03[F  ]| ~~ Well ~~ all right.
008:078,04[E  ]| ~~ \Franc^ois\, the same again. ~~ Will$1$ you smoke, Tommy?
008:078,05['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher produced his cigar-case. The two friends
008:078,06['  ]| lit their cigars and puffed at them in$4$ silence until their drinks
008:078,07['  ]| were served.
008:078,08[E  ]| ~~ I will$1$ tell you my opinion, 
008:078,08['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, emerging
008:078,09['  ]| after some time from the clouds of smoke in$4$ which$6#1$ he had
008:078,10['  ]| taken refuge, 
008:078,10[E  ]| it is a rum world. Talk of immorality! I have heard
008:078,11[E  ]| of cases ~~ what am I saying? ~~ I have known them: cases of ~~
008:078,12[E  ]| immorality. ~~
008:078,13['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher puffed thoughtfully at his cigar and then,
008:078,14['  ]| in$4$ a calm historian's tone, he proceeded to$9$ sketch for$4$ his
008:078,15['  ]| friend some pictures of the corruption which$6#1$ was rife abroad.
008:078,16['  ]| He summarised the vices of many capitals and seemed inclined
008:078,17['  ]| to$9$ award the palm to$4$ Berlin. Some things he could not
008:078,18['  ]| vouch for$4$ (his friends had told him), but of others he had had
008:078,19['  ]| personal experience. He spared neither rank nor caste. He revealed
008:078,20['  ]| many of the secrets of religious houses on$4$ the Continent
008:078,21['  ]| and described some of the practices which$6#1$ were fashionable
008:078,22['  ]| in$4$ high society and ended by$4$ telling, with details, a story
008:078,23['  ]| about an English duchess ~~ 
008:078,23@e   | a story which$6#1$ he knew to$9$ be true.
008:078,24['  ]| Little*Chandler was astonished.
008:078,25[E  ]| ~~ Ah, well, 
008:078,25['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, 
008:078,25[E  ]| here we are in$4$ old jog-along
008:078,26[E  ]| Dublin where nothing is known of such things.
008:078,27[F  ]| ~~ How dull you must find it, 
008:078,27['  ]| said Little*Chandler, 
008:078,27[F  ]| after all
008:078,28[F  ]| the other places you have seen!
008:078,29[E  ]| ~~ Well, 
008:078,29['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, 
008:078,29[E  ]| it is a relaxation to$9$ come
008:078,30[E  ]| over here, you know. And, after all, it is the old country, as
008:078,31[E  ]| they say, is not it? You can not help having a certain feeling
008:078,32[E  ]| for$4$ it. That$6#2$ is human nature. ~~ But tell me something about
008:078,33[E  ]| yourself. Hogan told me you had ~~ tasted the joys of connubial
008:078,34[E  ]| bliss. Two years ago, was not it?
008:079,01['  ]| Little*Chandler blushed and smiled.
008:079,02[F  ]| ~~ Yes, 
008:079,02['  ]| he said. 
008:079,02[F  ]| I was married last May twelve months.
008:079,03[E  ]| ~~ I hope it is not too late in$4$ the day to$9$ offer my best wishes,
008:079,04['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher. 
008:079,04[E  ]| I did not know your address or I would have
008:079,05[E  ]| done so$5#2$ at the time.
008:079,06['  ]| He extended his hand, which$6#1$ Little*Chandler took.
008:079,07[E  ]| ~~ Well, Tommy, 
008:079,07['  ]| he said, 
008:079,07[E  ]| I wish you and yours every joy in$4$
008:079,08[E  ]| life, old chap, and tons of money, and may you never die till
008:079,09[E  ]| I shoot you. And that$6#2$ is the wish of a sincere friend, an old
008:079,10[E  ]| friend. You know that$6#2$?
008:079,11[F  ]| ~~ I know that$6#2$, 
008:079,11['  ]| said Little*Chandler.
008:079,12[E  ]| ~~ Any youngsters? 
008:079,12['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher.
008:079,13['  ]| Little*Chandler blushed again.
008:079,14[F  ]| ~~ We have one child, 
008:079,14['  ]| he said.
008:079,15[E  ]| ~~ Son or daughter?
008:079,16[F  ]| ~~ A little boy.
008:079,17['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher slapped his friend sonorously on$4$ the back.
008:079,18[E  ]| ~~ Bravo, 
008:079,18['  ]| he said, 
008:079,18[E  ]| I would not doubt you, Tommy.
008:079,19['  ]| Little*Chandler smiled, looked confusedly at his glass and
008:079,20['  ]| bit his lower lip with three childishly white front teeth.
008:079,21[F  ]| ~~ I hope you will$1$ spend an evening with us, 
008:079,21['  ]| he said, 
008:079,21[F  ]| before
008:079,22[F  ]| you go back. My wife will$1$ be delighted to$9$ meet you. We can
008:079,23[F  ]| have a little music and ~
008:079,24[E  ]| ~~ Thanks awfully, old chap, 
008:079,24['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, 
008:079,24[E  ]| I am
008:079,25[E  ]| sorry we did not meet earlier. But I must leave to-morrow night.
008:079,26[F  ]| ~~ To-night, perhaps ~~?
008:079,27[E  ]| ~~ I am awfully sorry, old man. You see I am over here with
008:079,28[E  ]| another fellow, clever young chap he is too, and we arranged
008:079,29[E  ]| to$9$ go to$4$ a little card-party. Only for$4$ that$6#2$. ~~
008:079,30[F  ]| ~~ O, in$4$ that$6#2$ case. ~~
008:079,31[E  ]| ~~ But who$6#2$ knows? 
008:079,31['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher considerately.
008:079,32[E  ]| Next year I may take a little skip over here now that$3$ I have
008:079,33[E  ]| broken the ice. It is only a pleasure deferred.
008:079,34[F  ]| ~~ Very well, 
008:079,34['  ]| said Little*Chandler, 
008:079,34[F  ]| the next time you come
008:080,01[F  ]| we must have an evening together. That$6#2$ is agreed now, is not it?
008:080,02[E  ]| ~~ Yes, that$6#2$ is agreed, 
008:080,02['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher. 
008,080,02[E  ]| Next year if I
008:080,03[E  ]| come, \parole\ \d'honneur\.
008:080,04[F  ]| ~~ And to$9$ clinch the bargain, 
008:080,04['  ]| said Little*Chandler, 
008:080,04[F  ]| we will$1$ just
008:080,05[F  ]| have one more now.
008:080,06['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher took out a large gold watch and looked at
008:080,07['  ]| it.
008:080,08[E  ]| ~~ Is it to$9$ be the last? 
008:080,08['  ]| he said. 
008:080,08[E  ]| Because you know, I have an a.p.
008:080,09[F  ]| ~~ O, yes, positively, 
008:080,09['  ]| said Little*Chandler.
008:080,10[E  ]| ~~ Very well, then, 
008:080,10['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, 
008:080,10[E  ]| let us have another
008:080,11[E  ]| one as a \deoc\ \an\ \doruis\ ~~ that$6#2$ is good vernacular for$4$ a
008:080,12[E  ]| small whisky, I believe.
008:080,13['  ]| Little*Chandler ordered the drinks. The blush which$6#1$ had
008:080,14['  ]| risen to$4$ his face a few moments before was establishing itself.
008:080,15['  ]| A trifle made him blush at any time: and now he felt warm
008:080,16['  ]| and excited. Three small whiskies had gone to$4$ his head and
008:080,17['  ]| Gallaher's strong cigar had confused his mind, for$3$ he was a
008:080,18['  ]| delicate and abstinent person. The adventure of meeting Gallaher
008:080,19['  ]| after eight years, of finding himself with Gallaher in$4$
008:080,20['  ]| Corless's surrounded by$4$ lights and noise, of listening to$4$ Gallaher's
008:080,21['  ]| stories and of sharing for$4$ a brief space Gallaher's vagrant
008:080,22['  ]| and triumphant life, upset the equipoise of his sensitive nature.
008:080,23['  ]| He felt acutely the contrast between his own life and
008:080,24['  ]| his friend's, and it seemed to$4$ him unjust. Gallaher was his inferior
008:080,25['  ]| in$4$ birth and education. He was sure that$3$ he could do
008:080,26['  ]| something better than his friend had ever done, or could ever
008:080,27['  ]| do, something higher than mere tawdry journalism if he only
008:080,28['  ]| got the chance. What was it that$6#1$ stood in$4$ his way? His unfortunate
008:080,29['  ]| timidity! He wished to$9$ vindicate himself in$4$ some way, to$9$
008:080,30['  ]| assert his manhood. He saw behind Gallaher's refusal of his
008:080,31['  ]| invitation. Gallaher was only patronising him by$4$ his friendliness
008:080,32['  ]| just as he was patronising Ireland by$4$ his visit.
008:080,33['  ]| The barman brought their drinks. Little*Chandler pushed
008:080,34['  ]| one glass towards his friend and took up$5$ the other boldly.
008:081,01[F  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ knows? 
008:081,01['  ]| he said, as they lifted their glasses. 
008:081,01[F  ]| When
008:081,02[F  ]| you come next year I may have the pleasure of wishing long
008:081,03[F  ]| life and happiness to$4$ Mr*and*Mrs*Ignatius*Gallaher.
008:081,04['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher in$4$ the act of drinking closed one eye expressively
008:081,05['  ]| over the rim of his glass. When he had drunk he
008:081,06['  ]| smacked his lips decisively, set down his glass and said:
008:081,07[E  ]| ~~ No$2$ blooming fear of that$6#2$, my boy. I am going to$9$ have my
008:081,08[E  ]| fling first and see a bit of life and the world before I put my
008:081,09[E  ]| head in$4$ the sack ~~ if I ever do.
008:081,10[F  ]| ~~ Some day you will$1$, 
008:081,10['  ]| said Little*Chandler calmly.
008:081,11['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher turned his orange tie and slate-blue eyes
008:081,12['  ]| full upon$4$ his friend.
008:081,13[E  ]| ~~ You think so$5#2$? 
008:081,13['  ]| he said.
008:081,14[F  ]| ~~ You will$1$ put your head in$4$ the sack, 
008:081,14['  ]| repeated Little*Chandler
008:081,15['  ]| stoutly, 
008:081,15[F  ]| like$4$ everyone else if you can find the girl.
008:081,16['  ]| He had slightly emphasised his tone and he was aware that$3$
008:081,17['  ]| he had betrayed himself; but, though the colour had heightened
008:081,18['  ]| in$4$ his cheek, he did not flinch from his friend's gaze.
008:081,19['  ]| Ignatius*Gallaher watched him for$4$ a few moments and then
008:081,20['  ]| said:
008:081,21[E  ]| ~~ If ever it occurs, you may bet your bottom dollar there will$1$
008:081,22[E  ]| be no$2$ mooning and spooning about it. I mean to$9$ marry money.
008:081,23[E  ]| She will$1$ have a good fat account at the bank or she will$1$ not do
008:081,24[E  ]| for$4$ me.
008:081,25['  ]| Little*Chandler shook his head.
008:081,26[E  ]| ~~ Why, man alive, 
008:081,16['  ]| said Ignatius*Gallaher, vehemently, 
008:081,16[E  ]| do
008:081,27[E  ]| you know what it is? I have only to$9$ say the word and to-morrow
008:081,28[E  ]| I can have the woman and the cash. You do not believe it?
008:081,29[E  ]| Well, I know it. There are hundreds ~~ what am I saying? ~
008:081,30[E  ]| thousands of rich Germans and Jews, rotten with money,
008:081,31[E  ]| that$6#1$ would only be too glad. ~~ You wait a while, my boy. See
008:081,32[E  ]| if I do not play my cards properly. When I go about a thing I
008:081,33[E  ]| mean business, I tell you. You just wait.
008:081,34['  ]| He tossed his glass to$4$ his mouth, finished his drink and
008:082,01['  ]| laughed loudly. Then he looked thoughtfully before him and
008:082,02['  ]| said in$4$ a calmer tone:
008:082,03[E  ]| ~~ But I am in$4$ no$2$ hurry. They can wait. I do not fancy tying
008:082,04[E  ]| myself up$5$ to$4$ one woman, you know.
008:082,05['  ]| He imitated with his mouth the act of tasting and made a
008:082,06['  ]| wry face.
008:082,07[E  ]| ~~ Must get a bit stale, I should think, he said.
008:082,08['  ]| 
008:082,09['  ]| Little*Chandler sat in$4$ the room off the hall, holding a child
008:082,10['  ]| in$4$ his arms. To$9$ save money they kept no$2$ servant but Annie's
008:082,11['  ]| young sister Monica came for$4$ an hour or so$5#2$ in$4$ the morning
008:082,12['  ]| and an hour or so$5#2$ in$4$ the evening to$9$ help. But Monica had gone
008:082,13['  ]| home long ago. It was a quarter to$4$ nine. Little*Chandler had
008:082,14['  ]| come home late for$4$ tea and, moreover, he had forgotten to$9$
008:082,15['  ]| bring Annie home the parcel of coffee from Bewley's. Of
008:082,16['  ]| course she was in$4$ a bad humour and gave him short answers.
008:082,17['  ]| She said she would do without any tea but when it came near
008:082,18['  ]| the time at which$6#1$ the shop at the corner closed she decided to$9$
008:082,19['  ]| go out herself for$4$ a quarter of a pound of tea and two pounds
008:082,20['  ]| of sugar. She put the sleeping child deftly in$4$ his arms and said:
008:082,21[G  ]| ~~ Here. Do not waken him.
008:082,22['  ]| A little lamp with a white china shade stood upon$4$ the table
008:082,23['  ]| and its light fell over a photograph which$6#1$ was enclosed in$4$ a
008:082,24['  ]| frame of crumpled horn. It was Annie's photograph. Little*Chandler 
008:082,25['  ]| looked at it, pausing at the thin tight lips. She wore
008:082,26['  ]| the pale blue summer blouse which$6#1$ he had brought her home
008:082,27['  ]| as a present one Saturday. It had cost him ten and elevenpence;
008:082,28['  ]| but what an agony of nervousness it had cost him! How he had
008:082,29['  ]| suffered that$6#2$ day, waiting at the shop door until the shop was
008:082,30['  ]| empty, standing at the counter and trying to$9$ appear at his ease
008:082,31['  ]| while the girl piled ladies' blouses before him, paying at the desk
008:082,32['  ]| and forgetting to$9$ take up$5$ the odd penny of his change, being
008:082,33['  ]| called back by$4$ the cashier, and, finally, striving to$9$ hide his
008:082,34['  ]| blushes as he left the shop by$4$ examining the parcel to$9$ see if
008:083,01['  ]| it was securely tied. When he brought the blouse home Annie
008:083,02['  ]| kissed him and said it was very pretty and stylish; but when she
008:083,03['  ]| heard the price she threw the blouse on$4$ the table and said it was
008:083,04['  ]| a regular swindle to$9$ charge ten and elevenpence for$4$ that$6#2$. At
008:083,05['  ]| first she wanted to$9$ take it back but when she tried it on$5$ she was
008:083,06['  ]| delighted with it, especially with the make of the sleeves,
008:083,07['  ]| and kissed him and said he was very good to$9$ think of her.
008:083,08[F  ]| Hm!. ~~
008:083,09['  ]| He looked coldly into the eyes of the photograph and they
008:083,10['  ]| answered coldly. Certainly they were pretty and the face
008:083,11['  ]| itself was pretty. But he found something mean in$4$ it. Why
008:083,12['  ]| was it so$5#1$ unconscious and lady-like? The composure of the
008:083,13['  ]| eyes irritated him. They repelled him and defied him: there
008:083,14['  ]| was no$2$ passion in$4$ them, no$2$ rapture. He thought of what Gallaher
008:083,15['  ]| had said about rich Jewesses. Those dark Oriental eyes,
008:083,16['  ]| he thought, how full they are of passion, of voluptuous longing!
008:083,17@f   | ~~ Why had he married the eyes in$4$ the photograph?
008:083,18['  ]| He caught himself up$5$ at the question and glanced nervously
008:083,19['  ]| round the room. He found something mean in$4$ the
008:083,20['  ]| pretty furniture which$6#1$ he had bought for$4$ his house on$4$ the
008:083,21['  ]| hire system. Annie had chosen it herself and it reminded him
008:083,22['  ]| of her. It too was prim and pretty. A dull resentment against
008:083,23['  ]| his life awoke within him. 
008:083,23@f   |Could he not escape from his little
008:083,24@f   | house? Was it too late for$4$ him to$9$ try to$9$ live bravely like$4$ Gallaher?
008:083,25@f   | Could he go to$4$ London? There was the furniture still to$9$
008:083,26@f   | be paid for$5$. If he could only write a book and get it published,
008:083,27@f   | that$6#2$ might open the way for$4$ him.
008:083,28['  ]| A volume of Byron's poems lay before him on$4$ the table.
008:083,29['  ]| He opened it cautiously with his left hand lest he should
008:083,30['  ]| waken the child and began to$9$ read the first poem in$4$ the book:
008:083,31[Z  ]| \Hushed are the winds and still the evening gloom\,
008:083,32[Z  ]| \Not e'en a Zephyr wanders through the grove\,
008:083,33[Z  ]| \Whilst I return to$9$ view my Margaret's tomb\
008:083,34[Z  ]| \And scatter flowers on$4$ the dust I love\.
008:084,01['  ]| He paused. He felt the rhythm of the verse about him in$4$
008:084,02['  ]| the room. 
008:084,02@f   | How melancholy it was! Could he, too, write like$4$
008:084,03@f   | that$6#2$, express the melancholy of his soul in$4$ verse? There were
008:084,04@f   | so$5#1$ many things he wanted to$9$ describe: his sensation of a few
008:084,05@f   | hours before on$4$ Grattan*Bridge, for$4$ example. If he could get
008:084,06@f   | back again into that$6#2$ mood. ~~
008:084,07['  ]| The child awoke and began to$9$ cry. He turned from the
008:084,08['  ]| page and tried to$9$ hush it: but it would not be hushed. He
008:084,09['  ]| began to$9$ rock it to$8$ and fro in$4$ his arms but its wailing cry grew
008:084,10['  ]| keener. He rocked it faster while his eyes began to$9$ read the
008:084,11['  ]| second stanza:
008:084,12[Z  ]| \Within this narrow cell reclines her clay\,
008:084,13[Z  ]| \That$6#2$ clay where once\. ~~
008:084,14@f   | It was useless. He could not read. He could not do anything.
008:084,15['  ]| The wailing of the child pierced the drum of his ear. 
008:084,15@f   | It was
008:084,16@f   | useless, useless! He was a prisoner for$4$ life. 
008:084,16['  ]| His arms trembled
008:084,17['  ]| with anger and suddenly bending to$4$ the child's face he
008:084,18['  ]| shouted:
008:084,19[F  ]| ~~ Stop!
008:084,20['  ]| The child stopped for$4$ an instant, had a spasm of fright and
008:084,21['  ]| began to$9$ scream. He jumped up$5$ from his chair and walked
008:084,22['  ]| hastily up$4$ and down the room with the child in$4$ his arms. It
008:084,23['  ]| began to$9$ sob piteously, losing its breath for$4$ four or five seconds,
008:084,24['  ]| and then bursting out anew. The thin walls of the room
008:084,25['  ]| echoed the sound. He tried to$9$ soothe it but it sobbed more
008:084,26['  ]| convulsively. He looked at the contracted and quivering face
008:084,27['  ]| of the child and began to$9$ be alarmed. He counted seven sobs
008:084,28['  ]| without a break between them and caught the child to$4$ his
008:084,29['  ]| breast in$4$ fright. 
008:084,29@f   | If it died! ~~
008:084,30['  ]| The door was burst open and a young woman ran in$5$, panting.
008:084,31[G  ]| ~~ What is it? What is it? 
008:084,31['  ]| she cried.
008:085,01['  ]| The child, hearing its mother's voice, broke out into a paroxysm
008:085,02['  ]| of sobbing.
008:085,03[F  ]| ~~ It is nothing, Annie ~~ it is nothing. ~~ He began to$9$
008:085,04[F  ]| cry ~~
008:085,05['  ]| She flung her parcels on$4$ the floor and snatched the child
008:085,06['  ]| from him.
008:085,07[G  ]| ~~ What have you done to$4$ him? 
008:085,07['  ]| she cried, glaring into his
008:085,08['  ]| face.
008:085,09['  ]| Little*Chandler sustained for$4$ one moment the gaze of her
008:085,10['  ]| eyes and his heart closed together as he met the hatred in$4$
008:085,11['  ]| them. He began to$9$ stammer:
008:085,12[F  ]| ~~ It is nothing. ~~ He ~~ he began to$9$ cry. ~~ I
008:085,13[F  ]| could not ~~ I did not do anything. ~~ What?
008:085,14['  ]| Giving no$2$ heed to$4$ him she began to$9$ walk up$4$ and down the
008:085,15['  ]| room, clasping the child tightly in$4$ her arms and murmuring:
008:085,16[G  ]| ~~ My little man! My little mannie! Was 'ou frightened,
008:085,17[G  ]| love? ~~ There now, love! There now! ~~ Lambabaun!
008:085,18[G  ]| Mamma's little lamb of the world! ~~ There now!
008:085,19['  ]| Little*Chandler felt his cheeks suffused with shame and he
008:085,20['  ]| stood back out of the lamplight. He listened while the paroxysm
008:085,21['  ]| of the child's sobbing grew less and less; and tears of
008:085,22['  ]| remorse started to$4$ his eyes.
009:086,00@@@@@|
009:086,01['  ]| <COUNTERPARTS>
009:086,02['  ]| The bell rang furiously and, when Miss*Parker went to$4$
009:086,03['  ]| the tube, a furious voice called out in$4$ a piercing North of Ireland
009:086,04['  ]| accent:
009:086,05[J  ]| ~~ Send Farrington here!
009:086,06['  ]| Miss*Parker returned to$4$ her machine, saying to$4$ a man who$6#1$
009:086,07['  ]| was writing at a desk:
009:086,08[I  ]| ~~ Mr*Alleyne wants you upstairs.
009:086,09['  ]| The man muttered 
009:086,09[H  ]| \Blast\ \him\! 
009:086,09['  ]| under his breath and pushed
009:086,10['  ]| back his chair to$9$ stand up$5$. When he stood up$5$ he was tall and
009:086,11['  ]| of great bulk. He had a hanging face, dark wine-coloured,
009:086,12['  ]| with fair eyebrows and moustache: his eyes bulged forward
009:086,13['  ]| slightly and the whites of them were dirty. He lifted up$5$ the
009:086,14['  ]| counter and, passing by$4$ the clients, went out of the office
009:086,15['  ]| with a heavy step.
009:086,16['  ]| He went heavily upstairs until he came to$4$ the second landing,
009:086,17['  ]| where a door bore a brass plate with the inscription \Mr*Alleyne\. 
009:086,18['  ]| Here he halted, puffing with labour and vexation,
009:086,19['  ]| and knocked. The shrill voice cried:
009:087,01[J  ]| ~~ Come in$5$!
009:087,02['  ]| The man entered Mr*Alleyne's room. Simultaneously Mr*Alleyne, 
009:087,03['  ]| a little man wearing gold-rimmed glasses on$4$ a clean-shaven
009:087,04['  ]| face, shot his head up$5$ over a pile of documents. The
009:087,05['  ]| head itself was so$5#1$ pink and hairless that$3$ it seemed like$4$ a large egg
009:087,06['  ]| reposing on$4$ the papers. Mr*Alleyne did not lose a moment:
009:087,07[J  ]| ~~ Farrington? What is the meaning of this? Why have I
009:087,08[J  ]| always to$9$ complain of you? May I ask you why you have not
009:087,09[J  ]| made a copy of that$6#2$ contract between Bodley and Kirwan?
009:087,10[J  ]| I told you it must be ready by$4$ four o'clock.
009:087,11[H  ]| ~~ But Mr*Shelley said, sir ~~ 
009:087,12@h   | ~~ \Mr*Shelley\ \said\, \sir\. ~~~ 
009:087,12[J  ]| Kindly attend to$4$ what I say
009:087,13['  ]| and not to$4$ what 
009:087,13@h   | \Mr\ \Shelley\ \says\, \sir\. 
009:087,13[J  ]| You have always some
009:087,14[J  ]| excuse or another for$4$ shirking work. Let me tell you that$3$ if
009:087,15[J  ]| the contract is not copied before this evening I will$1$ lay the matter
009:087,16[J  ]| before Mr*Crosbie. ~~~ Do you hear me now?
009:087,17[H  ]| ~~ Yes, sir.
009:087,18[J  ]| ~~ Do you hear me now? ~~~ Ay and another little matter!
009:087,19[J  ]| I might as well be talking to$4$ the wall as talking to$4$ you.
009:087,20[J  ]| Understand once for$4$ all that$6#1$ you get a half an hour for$4$ your
009:087,21[J  ]| lunch and not an hour and a half. How many courses do you
009:087,22[J  ]| want, I would like$1$ to$9$ know. ~~~ Do you mind me, now?
009:087,23[H  ]| ~~ Yes, sir.
009:087,24['  ]| Mr*Alleyne bent his head again upon$4$ his pile of papers.
009:087,25['  ]| The man stared fixedly at the polished skull which$6#1$ directed
009:087,26['  ]| the affairs of Crosbie and Alleyne, gauging its fragility. A spasm
009:087,27['  ]| of rage gripped his throat for$4$ a few moments and then passed,
009:087,28['  ]| leaving after it a sharp sensation of thirst. The man recognised
009:087,29['  ]| the sensation and felt that$3$ he must have a good night's drinking.
009:087,30['  ]| The middle of the month was passed and, if he could get
009:087,31['  ]| the copy done in$4$ time, Mr*Alleyne might give him an order on$4$
009:087,32['  ]| the cashier. He stood still, gazing fixedly at the head upon$4$
009:087,33['  ]| the pile of papers. Suddenly Mr*Alleyne began to$9$ upset all the
009:087,34['  ]| papers, searching for$4$ something. Then, as if he had been unaware
009:088,01['  ]| of the man's presence till that$6#2$ moment, he shot up$5$ his
009:088,02['  ]| head again, saying:
009:088,03[J  ]| ~~ Eh? Are you going to$9$ stand there all day? Upon$4$ my word,
009:088,04[J  ]| Farrington, you take things easy!
009:088,05[H  ]| ~~ I was waiting to$9$ see ~~~
009:088,06[J  ]| ~~ Very good, you need not wait to$9$ see. Go downstairs
009:088,07[J  ]| and do your work.
009:088,08['  ]| The man walked heavily towards the door and, as he went
009:088,09['  ]| out of the room, he heard Mr*Alleyne cry after him that$3$ if the
009:088,10['  ]| contract was not copied by$4$ evening Mr*Crosbie would hear of
009:088,11['  ]| the matter.
009:088,12['  ]| He returned to$4$ his desk in$4$ the lower office and counted the
009:088,13['  ]| sheets which$6#1$ remained to$9$ be copied. He took up$5$ his pen and
009:088,14['  ]| dipped it in$4$ the ink but he continued to$9$ stare stupidly at the
009:088,15['  ]| last words he had written: 
009:088,15@h   | \In$4$\ \no$2$\ \case\ \shall\ \the\ \said\ \Bernard\
009:088,16@h   | \Bodley\ \be\ ~~~ 
009:088,16['  ]| The evening was falling and in$4$ a few minutes
009:088,17['  ]| they would be lighting the gas: then he could write. He
009:088,18['  ]| felt that$3$ he must slake the thirst in$4$ his throat. He stood up$5$
009:088,19['  ]| from his desk and, lifting the counter as before, passed out of
009:088,20['  ]| the office. As he was passing out the chief clerk looked at
009:088,21['  ]| him inquiringly.
009:088,22[H  ]| ~~ It is all right, Mr*Shelley, 
009:088,22['  ]| said the man, pointing with his
009:088,23['  ]| finger to$9$ indicate the objective of his journey.
009:088,24['  ]| The chief clerk glanced at the hat-rack but, seeing the row
009:088,25['  ]| complete, offered no$2$ remark. As soon as he was on$4$ the landing
009:088,26['  ]| the man pulled a shepherd's plaid cap out of his pocket, put it
009:088,27['  ]| on$4$ his head and ran quickly down the rickety stairs. From the
009:088,28['  ]| street door he walked on$5$ furtively on$4$ the inner side of the
009:088,29['  ]| path towards the corner and all at once dived into a doorway.
009:088,30['  ]| He was now safe in$4$ the dark snug of O'Neill's shop, and, filling
009:088,31['  ]| up$5$ the little window that$6#1$ looked into the bar with his inflamed
009:088,32['  ]| face, the colour of dark wine or dark meat, he called
009:088,33['  ]| out:
009:088,34[H  ]| ~~ Here, Pat, give us a g.p., like$4$ a good fellow.
009:089,01['  ]| The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man
009:089,02['  ]| drank it at a gulp and asked for$4$ a caraway seed. He put his
009:089,03['  ]| penny on$4$ the counter and, leaving the curate to$9$ grope for$4$
009:089,04['  ]| it in$4$ the gloom, retreated out of the snug as furtively as he
009:089,05['  ]| had entered it.
009:089,06['  ]| Darkness, accompanied by$4$ a thick fog, was gaining upon$4$
009:089,07['  ]| the dusk of February and the lamps in$4$ Eustace*Street had
009:089,08['  ]| been lit. The man went up$5$ by$4$ the houses until he reached the
009:089,09['  ]| door of the office, wondering whether he could finish his
009:089,10['  ]| copy in$4$ time. On$4$ the stairs a moist pungent odour of perfumes
009:089,11['  ]| saluted his nose: evidently Miss*Delacour had come
009:089,12['  ]| while he was out in$4$ O'Neill's. He crammed his cap back again
009:089,13['  ]| into his pocket and re-entered the office, assuming an air of
009:089,14['  ]| absent-mindedness.
009:089,15[V  ]| ~~ Mr*Alleyne has been calling for$4$ you, 
009:089,15['  ]| said the chief clerk
009:089,16['  ]| severely. 
009:089,16[V  ]| Where were you?
009:089,17['  ]| The man glanced at the two clients who$6#1$ were standing at
009:089,18['  ]| the counter as if to$9$ intimate that$3$ their presence prevented him
009:089,19['  ]| from answering. As the clients were both male the chief clerk
009:089,20['  ]| allowed himself a laugh.
009:089,21[V  ]| ~~ I know that$6#2$ game, he said. Five times in$4$ one day is a little
009:089,22[V  ]| bit. ~~~ Well, you better look sharp and get a copy of
009:089,23[V  ]| our correspondence in$4$ the Delacour case for$4$ Mr*Alleyne.
009:089,24['  ]| This address in$4$ the presence of the public, his run upstairs
009:089,25['  ]| and the porter he had gulped down so$5#1$ hastily confused the
009:089,26['  ]| man and, as he sat down at his desk to$9$ get what was required,
009:089,27['  ]| he realised how hopeless was the task of finishing his copy of
009:089,28['  ]| the contract before half past five. The dark damp night was
009:089,29['  ]| coming and he longed to$9$ spend it in$4$ the bars, drinking with
009:089,30['  ]| his friends amid the glare of gas and the clatter of glasses. He
009:089,31['  ]| got out the Delacour correspondence and passed out of the office.
009:089,32['  ]| He hoped Mr*Alleyne would not discover that$3$ the last
009:089,33['  ]| two letters were missing.
009:089,34['  ]| The moist pungent perfume lay all the way up$5$ to$4$ Mr*Alleyne's
009:090,01['  ]| room. Miss*Delacour was a middle-aged woman of
009:090,02['  ]| Jewish appearance. Mr*Alleyne was said to$9$ be sweet on$4$ her
009:090,03['  ]| or on$4$ her money. She came to$4$ the office often and stayed a long
009:090,04['  ]| time when she came. She was sitting beside his desk now in$4$
009:090,05['  ]| an aroma of perfumes, smoothing the handle of her umbrella
009:090,06['  ]| and nodding the great black feather in$4$ her hat. Mr*Alleyne
009:090,07['  ]| had swivelled his chair round to$9$ face her and thrown his
009:090,08['  ]| right foot jauntily upon$4$ his left knee. The man put the
009:090,09['  ]| correspondence
009:090,10['  ]| on$4$ the desk and bowed respectfully but neither
009:090,11['  ]| Mr*Alleyne nor Miss*Delacour took any notice of his bow.
009:090,12['  ]| Mr*Alleyne tapped a finger on$4$ the correspondence and then
009:090,13['  ]| flicked it towards him as if to$9$ say: 
009:090,13@j   | \That$6#2$ is\ \all\ \right\: \you\
009:090,14@j   | \can\ \go\.
009:090,15['  ]| The man returned to$4$ the lower office and sat down again
009:090,16['  ]| at his desk. He stared intently at the incomplete phrase: 
009:090,16@h   | \In$4$\
009:090,17@h   | \no$2$\ \case\ \shall\ \the\ \said\ \Bernard*Bodley\ \be\ ~~~ 
009:090,17['  ]| and thought
009:090,18@h   | how strange it was that$3$ the last three words began with the
009:090,19@h   | same letter. 
009:090,19['  ]| The chief clerk began to$9$ hurry Miss*Parker, saying
009:090,20['  ]| she would never have the letters typed in$4$ time for$4$ post.
009:090,21['  ]| The man listened to$4$ the clicking of the machine for$4$ a few minutes
009:090,22['  ]| and then set to$9$ work to$9$ finish his copy. But his head was
009:090,23['  ]| not clear and his mind wandered away to$4$ the glare and rattle
009:090,24['  ]| of the public-house. It was a night for$4$ hot punches. He struggled
009:090,25['  ]| on$5$ with his copy, but when the clock struck five he had
009:090,26['  ]| still fourteen pages to$9$ write. Blast it! He could not finish it in$4$
009:090,27['  ]| time. He longed to$9$ execrate aloud, to$9$ bring his fist down on$4$
009:090,28['  ]| something violently. He was so$5#1$ enraged that$3$ he wrote 
009:090,28@h   | \Bernard\
009:090,29@h   | \Bernard\ 
009:090,29['  ]| instead of 
009:090,29@h   | \Bernard*Bodley\ 
009:090,29['  ]| and had to$9$ begin again on$4$
009:090,30['  ]| a clean sheet.
009:090,31['  ]| He felt strong enough to$9$ clear out the whole office single-handed.
009:090,32['  ]| His body ached to$9$ do something, to$9$ rush out and
009:090,33['  ]| revel in$4$ violence. All the indignities of his life enraged him. ~~~
009:090,34@h   | Could he ask the cashier privately for$4$ an advance? No$7$,
009:090,35@h   | the cashier was no$2$ good, no$2$ damn good: he would not give an
009:091,01@h   | advance. ~~~ 
009:091,01['  ]| He knew where he would meet the boys: Leonard
009:091,02['  ]| and O'Halloran and Nosey*Flynn. The barometer of his
009:091,03['  ]| emotional nature was set for$4$ a spell of riot.
009:091,04['  ]| His imagination had so$5#1$ abstracted him that$3$ his name was
009:091,05['  ]| called twice before he answered. Mr*Alleyne and Miss*Delacour
009:091,06['  ]| were standing outside the counter and all the clerks had
009:091,07['  ]| turned round in$4$ anticipation of something. The man got up$5$
009:091,08['  ]| from his desk. Mr*Alleyne began a tirade of abuse, saying that$3$
009:091,09['  ]| two letters were missing. The man answered that$3$ he knew
009:091,10['  ]| nothing about them, that$3$ he had made a faithful copy. The
009:091,11['  ]| tirade continued: it was so$5#1$ bitter and violent that$3$ the man
009:091,12['  ]| could hardly restrain his fist from descending upon$4$ the head
009:091,13['  ]| of the manikin before him.
009:091,14[H  ]| ~~ I know nothing about any other two letters, 
009:091,14['  ]| he said stupidly.
009:091,15@h   | ~~ \You\ ~~  \know\ ~~  \nothing\. 
009:091,15[J  ]| Of course you know nothing,
009:091,16['  ]| said Mr*Alleyne. 
009:091,16[J  ]| Tell me, 
009:091,16['  ]| he added, glancing first for$4$ approval
009:091,17['  ]| to$4$ the lady beside him, 
009:091,17[J  ]| do you take me for$4$ a fool? Do you
009:091,18[J  ]| think me an utter fool?
009:091,19['  ]| The man glanced from the lady's face to$4$ the little egg-shaped
009:091,20['  ]| head and back again; and, almost before he was aware
009:091,21['  ]| of it, his tongue had found a felicitous moment:
009:091,22[H  ]| ~~ I do not think, sir, 
009:091,22['  ]| he said, 
009:091,22[H  ]| that$3$ that$6#2$ is a fair question to$9$ put
009:091,23[H  ]| to$4$ me.
009:091,24['  ]| There was a pause in$4$ the very breathing of the clerks.
009:091,25['  ]| Everyone was astounded (the author of the witticism no$2$ less
009:091,26['  ]| than his neighbours) and Miss*Delacour, who$6#1$ was a stout amiable
009:091,27['  ]| person, began to$9$ smile broadly. Mr*Alleyne flushed to$4$ the
009:091,28['  ]| hue of a wild rose and his mouth twitched with a dwarf's
009:091,29['  ]| passion. He shook his fist in$4$ the man's face till it seemed to$9$
009:091,30['  ]| vibrate like$4$ the knob of some electric machine:
009:091,31[J  ]| ~~ You impertinent ruffian! You impertinent ruffian! I will$1$ make
009:091,32[J  ]| short work of you! Wait till you see! You will$1$ apologise to$4$ me
009:092,01[J  ]| for$4$ your impertinence or you will$1$ quit the office instanter! You will$1$
009:092,02[J  ]| quit this, I am telling you, or you will$1$ apologise to$4$ me!
009:092,03['  ]| 
009:092,04['  ]| He stood in$4$ a doorway opposite the office watching to$9$ see
009:092,05['  ]| if the cashier would come out alone. All the clerks passed
009:092,06['  ]| out and finally the cashier came out with the chief clerk. It
009:092,07['  ]| was no$2$ use trying to$9$ say a word to$4$ him when he was with the
009:092,08['  ]| chief clerk. The man felt that$3$ his position was bad enough.
009:092,09['  ]| He had been obliged to$9$ offer an abject apology to$4$ Mr*Alleyne
009:092,10['  ]| for$4$ his impertinence but he knew what a hornet's nest the office
009:092,11['  ]| would be for$4$ him. He could remember the way in$4$
009:092,12['  ]| which$6#1$ Mr*Alleyne had hounded little Peake out of the office
009:092,13['  ]| in$4$ order to$9$ make room for$4$ his own nephew. He felt savage and
009:092,14['  ]| thirsty and revengeful, annoyed with himself and with everyone
009:092,15['  ]| else. Mr*Alleyne would never give him an hour's rest; his
009:092,16['  ]| life would be a hell to$4$ him. He had made a proper fool of himself
009:092,17['  ]| this time. Could he not keep his tongue in$4$ his cheek? But
009:092,18['  ]| they had never pulled together from the first, he and Mr*Alleyne,
009:092,19['  ]| ever since the day Mr*Alleyne had overheard him mimicking
009:092,20['  ]| his North of Ireland accent to$9$ amuse Higgins and Miss*Parker:
009:092,21['  ]| that$6#2$ had been the beginning of it. He might have tried
009:092,22['  ]| Higgins for$4$ the money, but sure Higgins never had anything
009:092,23['  ]| for$4$ himself. A man with two establishments to$9$ keep up$5$, of
009:092,24['  ]| course he could not. ~~~
009:092,25['  ]| He felt his great body again aching for$4$ the comfort of the
009:092,26['  ]| public-house. The fog had begun to$9$ chill him and he wondered
009:092,27@h   | could he touch Pat in$4$ O'Neill's. He could not touch him
009:092,28@h   | for$4$ more than a bob ~~  and a bob was no$2$ use. Yet he must get
009:092,29@h   | money somewhere or other: he had spent his last penny for$4$ the
009:092,30@h   | g.p. and soon it would be too late for$4$ getting money anywhere.
009:092,31['  ]| Suddenly, as he was fingering his watch-chain, he
009:092,32['  ]| thought of Terry*Kelly's pawn-office in$4$ Fleet*Street. 
009:092,32@h   | That$6#2$ was
009:092,33@h   | the dart! Why did not he think of it sooner?
009:092,34['  ]| He went through the narrow alley of Temple Bar quickly,
009:093,01['  ]| muttering to$4$ himself that$3$ they could all go to$4$ hell because he
009:093,02['  ]| was going to$9$ have a good night of it. The clerk in$4$ Terry*Kelly's
009:093,03['  ]| said 
009:093,03[V  ]| \A\ \crown\! 
009:093,03['  ]| but the consignor held out for$4$ six shillings;
009:093,04['  ]| and in$4$ the end the six shillings was allowed him literally. He
009:093,05['  ]| came out of the pawn-office joyfully, making a little cylinder
009:093,06['  ]| of the coins between his thumb and fingers. In$4$ Westmoreland*Street 
009:093,07['  ]| the footpaths were crowded with young men and
009:093,08['  ]| women returning from business and ragged urchins ran here
009:093,09['  ]| and there yelling out the names of the evening editions.
009:093,10['  ]| The man passed through the crowd, looking on$4$ the spectacle
009:093,11['  ]| generally with proud satisfaction and staring masterfully at
009:093,12['  ]| the office-girls. His head was full of the noises of tram-gongs
009:093,13['  ]| and swishing trolleys and his nose already sniffed the curling
009:093,14['  ]| fumes of punch. As he walked on$5$ he preconsidered the terms
009:093,15['  ]| in$4$ which$6#1$ he would narrate the incident to$4$ the boys:
009:093,16@h   | ~~ So$3$, I just looked at him ~~  coolly, you know, and looked at
009:093,17@h   | her. Then I looked back at him again ~~  taking my time, you
009:093,18@h   | know. 
009:093,18[H  ]| \I\ \do not\ \think\ \that$3$\ \that$6#2$ is\ \a\ \fair\ \question\ \to$9$\ \put\ \to$4$\ \me\,
009:093,19@h   | says I.
009:093,20['  ]| Nosey*Flynn was sitting up$5$ in$4$ his usual corner of Davy
009:093,21['  ]| Byrne's and, when he heard the story, he stood Farrington a
009:093,22['  ]| half-one, saying it was as smart a thing as ever he heard.
009:093,23['  ]| Farrington stood a drink in$4$ his turn. After a while O'Halloran and
009:093,24['  ]| Paddy*Leonard came in$5$ and the story was repeated to$4$ them.
009:093,25['  ]| O'Halloran stood tailors of malt, hot, all round and told the
009:093,26['  ]| story of the retort he had made to$4$ the chief clerk when he was
009:093,27['  ]| in$4$ Callan's of Fownes's*Street; but, as the retort was after the
009:093,28['  ]| manner of the liberal shepherds in$4$ the eclogues, he had to$9$ admit
009:093,29['  ]| that$3$ it was not so$5#1$ clever as Farrington's retort. At this
009:093,30['  ]| Farrington told the boys to$9$ polish off that$6#2$ and have another.
009:093,31['  ]| Just as they were naming their poisons who$6#1$ should come
009:093,32['  ]| in$5$ but Higgins! Of course he had to$9$ join in$5$ with the others.
009:093,33['  ]| The men asked him to$9$ give his version of it, and he did so$5#2$ with
009:093,34['  ]| great vivacity for$4$ the sight of five small hot whiskies was very
009:094,01['  ]| exhilarating. Everyone roared laughing when he showed the
009:094,02['  ]| way in$4$ which$6#1$ Mr*Alleyne shook his fist in$4$ Farrington's face.
009:094,03['  ]| Then he imitated Farrington, saying, 
009:094,03[V  ]| \And\ \here\ \was\ \my\ \nabs,\
009:094,04[V  ]| \as\ \cool\ \as\ \you\ \please\, 
009:094,04['  ]| while Farrington looked at the company
009:094,05['  ]| out of his heavy dirty eyes, smiling and at times drawing forth
009:094,06['  ]| stray drops of liquor from his moustache with the aid of his
009:094,07['  ]| lower lip.
009:094,08['  ]| When that$6#2$ round was over there was a pause. O'Halloran
009:094,09['  ]| had money but neither of the other two seemed to$9$ have any;
009:094,10['  ]| so$3$ the whole party left the shop somewhat regretfully. At the
009:094,11['  ]| corner of Duke*Street Higgins and Nosey*Flynn bevelled off
009:094,12['  ]| to$4$ the left while the other three turned back towards the
009:094,13['  ]| city. Rain was drizzling down on$4$ the cold streets and, when
009:094,14['  ]| they reached the Ballast Office, Farrington suggested the
009:094,15['  ]| Scotch House. The bar was full of men and loud with the
009:094,16['  ]| noise of tongues and glasses. The three men pushed past the
009:094,17['  ]| whining match-sellers at the door and formed a little party at
009:094,18['  ]| the corner of the counter. They began to$9$ exchange stories.
009:094,19['  ]| Leonard introduced them to$4$ a young fellow named Weathers
009:094,20['  ]| who$6#1$ was performing at the Tivoli as an acrobat and knock-about
009:094,21['  ]| \artiste\. Farrington stood a drink all round. Weathers
009:094,22['  ]| said he would take a small Irish and Apollinaris. Farrington,
009:094,23['  ]| who$6#1$ had definite notions of what was what, asked the boys
009:094,24['  ]| would they have an Apollinaris too; but the boys told Tim to$9$
009:094,25['  ]| make theirs hot. The talk became theatrical. O'Halloran stood
009:094,26['  ]| a round and then Farrington stood another round, Weathers
009:094,27['  ]| protesting that$3$ the hospitality was too Irish. He promised to$9$
009:094,28['  ]| get them in$5$ behind the scenes and introduce them to$4$ some
009:094,29['  ]| nice girls. O'Halloran said that$3$ he and Leonard would go but
009:094,30['  ]| that$3$ Farrington would not go because he was a married man;
009:094,31['  ]| and Farrington's heavy dirty eyes leered at the company in$4$
009:094,32['  ]| token that$3$ he understood he was being chaffed. Weathers made
009:094,33['  ]| them all have just one little tincture at his expense and promised
009:094,34['  ]| to$9$ meet them later on$5$ at Mulligan's in$4$ Poolbeg*Street.
009:095,01['  ]| When the Scotch*House closed they went round to$4$ Mulligan's.
009:095,02['  ]| They went into the parlour at the back and O'Halloran
009:095,03['  ]| ordered small hot specials all round. They were all beginning
009:095,04['  ]| to$9$ feel mellow. Farrington was just standing another round
009:095,05['  ]| when Weathers came back. Much to$4$ Farrington's relief he
009:095,06['  ]| drank a glass of bitter this time. Funds were running low but
009:095,07['  ]| they had enough to$9$ keep them going. Presently two young
009:095,08['  ]| women with big hats and a young man in$4$ a check suit came
009:095,09['  ]| in$5$ and sat at a table close by$5$. Weathers saluted them and told
009:095,10['  ]| the company that$3$ they were out of the Tivoli. Farrington's
009:095,11['  ]| eyes wandered at every moment in$4$ the direction of one of the
009:095,12['  ]| young women. There was something striking in$4$ her appearance.
009:095,13['  ]| An immense scarf of peacock-blue muslin was wound
009:095,14['  ]| round her hat and knotted in$4$ a great bow under her chin; and
009:095,15['  ]| she wore bright yellow gloves, reaching to$4$ the elbow. Farrington
009:095,16['  ]| gazed admiringly at the plump arm which$6#1$ she moved
009:095,17['  ]| very often and with much grace; and when, after a little time,
009:095,18['  ]| she answered his gaze he admired still more her large dark
009:095,19['  ]| brown eyes. The oblique staring expression in$4$ them fascinated
009:095,20['  ]| him. She glanced at him once or twice and, when the party
009:095,21['  ]| was leaving the room, she brushed against his chair and said
009:095,22[W  ]| \O,\ \pardon\! 
009:095,22['  ]| in$4$ a London accent. He watched her leave the
009:095,23['  ]| room in$4$ the hope that$3$ she would look back at him, but he was
009:095,24['  ]| disappointed. He cursed his want of money and cursed all the
009:095,25['  ]| rounds he had stood, particularly all the whiskies and Apollinaris
009:095,26['  ]| which$6#1$ he had stood to$4$ Weathers. If there was one thing
009:095,27['  ]| that$6#1$ he hated it was a sponge. He was so$5#1$ angry that$3$ he lost
009:095,28['  ]| count of the conversation of his friends.
009:095,29['  ]| When Paddy*Leonard called him he found that$3$ they were
009:095,30['  ]| talking about feats of strength. Weathers was showing his
009:095,31['  ]| biceps muscle to$4$ the company and boasting so$5#1$ much that$3$ the
009:095,32['  ]| other two had called on$4$ Farrington to$9$ uphold the national honour.
009:095,33['  ]| Farrington pulled up$5$ his sleeve accordingly and showed
009:095,34['  ]| his biceps muscle to$4$ the company. The two arms were examined
009:096,01['  ]| and compared and finally it was agreed to$9$ have a trial of
009:096,02['  ]| strength. The table was cleared and the two men rested their
009:096,03['  ]| elbows on$4$ it, clasping hands. When Paddy*Leonard said 
009:096,03[V  ]| \Go\!
009:096,04['  ]| each was to$9$ try to$9$ bring down the other's hand on$5$ to$4$ the table.
009:096,05['  ]| Farrington looked very serious and determined.
009:096,06['  ]| The trial began. After about thirty seconds Weathers
009:096,07['  ]| brought his opponent's hand slowly down on$5$ to$4$ the table. Farrington's
009:096,08['  ]| dark wine-coloured face flushed darker still with
009:096,09['  ]| anger and humiliation at having been defeated by$4$ such a stripling.
009:096,10[H  ]| ~~ You are not to$9$ put the weight of your body behind it.
009:096,11[H  ]| Play fair, 
009:096,11['  ]| he said.
009:096,12[V  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is not playing fair? 
009:096,12['  ]| said the other.
009:096,13[X  ]| ~~ Come on$5$ again. The two best out of three.
009:096,14['  ]| The trial began again. The veins stood out on$4$ Farrington's
009:096,15['  ]| forehead, and the pallor of Weathers' complexion
009:096,16['  ]| changed to$4$ peony. Their hands and arms trembled under the
009:096,17['  ]| stress. After a long struggle Weathers again brought his opponent's
009:096,18['  ]| hand slowly on$5$ to$4$ the table. There was a murmur of
009:096,19['  ]| applause from the spectators. The curate, who$6#1$ was standing
009:096,20['  ]| beside the table, nodded his red head towards the victor and
009:096,21['  ]| said with loutish familiarity:
009:096,22[V  ]| ~~ Ah! that$6#2$ is the knack!
009:096,23[H  ]| ~~ What the hell do you know about it? 
009:096,23['  ]| said Farrington
009:096,24['  ]| fiercely, turning on$4$ the man. 
009:096,24[H  ]| What do you put in$4$ your gab
009:096,25[H  ]| for$4$?
009:096,26[V  ]| ~~ Sh, sh! 
009:096,26['  ]| said O'Halloran, observing the violent expression
009:096,27['  ]| of Farrington's face. 
009:096,27[V  ]| Pony up$5$, boys. We will$1$ have just one little
009:096,28[V  ]| smahan more and then we will$1$ be off.
009:096,29['  ]| 
009:096,30['  ]| A very sullen-faced man stood at the corner of O'Connell*Bridge 
009:096,31['  ]| waiting for$4$ the little Sandymount tram to$9$ take him
009:096,32['  ]| home. He was full of smouldering anger and revengefulness.
009:096,33['  ]| He felt humiliated and discontented; he did not even feel
009:097,01['  ]| drunk; and he had only twopence in$4$ his pocket. He cursed
009:097,02['  ]| everything. He had done for$4$ himself in$4$ the office, pawned
009:097,03['  ]| his watch, spent all his money; and he had not even got drunk.
009:097,04['  ]| He began to$9$ feel thirsty again and he longed to$9$ be back again
009:097,05['  ]| in$4$ the hot reeking public-house. He had lost his reputation as
009:097,06['  ]| a strong man, having been defeated twice by$4$ a mere boy.
009:097,07['  ]| His heart swelled with fury and, when he thought of the
009:097,08['  ]| woman in$4$ the big hat who$6#1$ had brushed against him and said
009:097,09[W  ]| \Pardon\! 
009:097,09['  ]| his fury nearly choked him.
009:097,10['  ]| His tram let him down at Shelbourne*Road and he steered
009:097,11['  ]| his great body along in$4$ the shadow of the wall of the barracks.
009:097,12['  ]| He loathed returning to$4$ his home. When he went in$5$ by$4$ the
009:097,13['  ]| side-door he found the kitchen empty and the kitchen fire
009:097,14['  ]| nearly out. He bawled upstairs:
009:097,15[H  ]| ~~ Ada! Ada!
009:097,16['  ]| His wife was a little sharp-faced woman who$6#1$ bullied her
009:097,17['  ]| husband when he was sober and was bullied by$4$ him when he
009:097,18['  ]| was drunk. They had five children. A little boy came running
009:097,19['  ]| down the stairs.
009:097,20[H  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is that$6#2$? said the man, peering through the darkness.
009:097,21[V  ]| ~~ Me, pa.
009:097,22[H  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ are you? Charlie?
009:097,23[V  ]| ~~ No$7$, pa. Tom.
009:097,24[H  ]| ~~ Where is your mother?
009:097,25[V  ]| ~~ She is out at the chapel.
009:097,26[H  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is right. ~~~ Did she think of leaving any dinner
009:097,27[H  ]| for$4$ me?
009:097,28[V  ]| ~~ Yes, pa. I ~~ 
009:097,29[H  ]| ~~ Light the lamp. What do you mean by$4$ having the place
009:097,30[H  ]| in$4$ darkness? Are the other children in$4$ bed?
009:097,31['  ]| The man sat down heavily on$4$ one of the chairs while the
009:097,32['  ]| little boy lit the lamp. He began to$9$ mimic his son's flat accent,
009:097,33['  ]| saying half to$4$ himself: 
009:097,33@v   | \At\ \the\ \chapel\. \At\ \the\ \chapel\, \if\ \you\
009:098,01@v   | \please\! 
009:098,01['  ]| When the lamp was lit he banged his fist on$4$ the table
009:098,02['  ]| and shouted:
009:098,03[H  ]| ~~ What is for$4$ my dinner?
009:098,04[V  ]| ~~ I am going ~~~ to$9$ cook it, pa, 
009:098,04['  ]| said the little boy.
009:098,05['  ]| The man jumped up$5$ furiously and pointed to$4$ the fire.
009:098,06[H  ]| ~~ On$4$ that$6#2$ fire! You let the fire out! By$4$ God, I will$1$ teach you
009:098,07[H  ]| to$9$ do that$6#2$ again!
009:098,08['  ]| He took a step to$4$ the door and seized the walking-stick
009:098,09['  ]| which$6#1$ was standing behind it.
009:098,10[H  ]| ~~ I will$1$ teach you to$9$ let the fire out! 
009:098,10['  ]| he said, rolling up$5$ his
009:098,11['  ]| sleeve in$4$ order to$9$ give his arm free play.
009:098,12['  ]| The little boy cried 
009:098,12[V  ]| \O\, \pa\! 
009:098,12['  ]| and ran whimpering round the
009:098,13['  ]| table, but the man followed him and caught him by$4$ the coat.
009:098,14['  ]| The little boy looked about him wildly but, seeing no$2$ way of
009:098,15['  ]| escape, fell upon$4$ his knees.
009:098,16[H  ]| ~~ Now, you will$1$ let the fire out the next time! 
009:098,16['  ]| said the man,
009:098,17['  ]| striking at him viciously with the stick. 
009:098,17[H  ]| Take that$6#2$, you little
009:098,18[H  ]| whelp!
009:098,19['  ]| The boy uttered a squeal of pain as the stick cut his thigh.
009:098,20['  ]| He clasped his hands together in$4$ the air and his voice shook
009:098,21['  ]| with fright.
009:098,22[V  ]| ~~ O, pa! 
009:098,22['  ]| he cried. 
009:098,22[V  ]| Do not beat me, pa! And I will$1$ ~~~ I will$1$
009:098,23[V  ]| say a \Hail*Mary\ for$4$ you. ~~~ I will$1$ say a \Hail*Mary\ for$4$ you,
009:098,24[V  ]| pa, if you do not beat me. ~~~ I will$1$ say a \Hail*Mary\. ~~~
010:099,00@@@@@|
010:099,01['  ]| <CLAY>
010:099,02['  ]| The matron had given her leave to$9$ go out as soon as the
010:099,03['  ]| women's tea was over and Maria looked forward to$4$ her evening
010:099,04['  ]| out. The kitchen was spick and span: the cook said you
010:099,05['  ]| could see yourself in$4$ the big copper boilers. The fire was nice
010:099,06['  ]| and bright and on$4$ one of the side-tables were four very big
010:099,07['  ]| barmbracks. These barmbracks seemed uncut; but if you went
010:099,08['  ]| closer you would see that$3$ they had been cut into long thick
010:099,09['  ]| even slices and were ready to$9$ be handed round at tea. Maria
010:099,10['  ]| had cut them herself.
010:099,11['  ]| Maria was a very, very small person indeed but she had a
010:099,12['  ]| very long nose and a very long chin. She talked a little
010:099,13['  ]| through her nose, always soothingly: 
010:099,13[K  ]| \Yes\, \my\ \dear\, 
010:099,13['  ]| and 
010:099,13[K  ]| \No$7$\,
010:099,14[K  ]| \my\ \dear\. 
010:099,14['  ]| She was always sent for$5$ when the women quarrelled
010:099,15['  ]| over their tubs and always succeeded in$4$ making peace. One
010:099,16['  ]| day the matron had said to$4$ her:
010:099,17[L  ]| ~~ Maria, you are a veritable peace-maker!
010:099,18['  ]| And the sub-matron and two of the Board ladies had heard
010:099,19['  ]| the compliment. And Ginger*Mooney was always saying
010:100,01['  ]| what she would not do to$4$ the dummy who$6#1$ had charge of the
010:100,02['  ]| irons if it was not for$4$ Maria. Everyone was so$5#1$ fond of Maria.
010:100,03['  ]| The women would have their tea at six o'clock and she
010:100,04['  ]| would be able to$9$ get away before seven. From Ballsbridge to$4$
010:100,05['  ]| the Pillar, twenty minutes; from the Pillar to$4$ Drumcondra,
010:100,06['  ]| twenty minutes; and twenty minutes to$9$ buy the things. She
010:100,07['  ]| would be there before eight. She took out her purse with the
010:100,08['  ]| silver clasps and read again the words 
010:100,08[Z  ]| \A\ \Present\ \from\ \Belfast\.
010:100,09['  ]| She was very fond of that$6#2$ purse because Joe had brought
010:100,10['  ]| it to$4$ her five years before when he and Alphy had gone to$4$ Belfast
010:100,11['  ]| on$4$ a Whit-Monday trip. In$4$ the purse were two half-crowns
010:100,12['  ]| and some coppers. She would have five shillings clear after
010:100,13['  ]| paying tram fare. What a nice evening they would have, all
010:100,14['  ]| the children singing! Only she hoped that$3$ Joe would not come
010:100,15['  ]| in$5$ drunk. He was so$5#1$ different when he took any drink.
010:100,16['  ]| Often he had wanted her to$9$ go and live with them; but she
010:100,17['  ]| would have felt herself in$4$ the way (though Joe's wife was
010:100,18['  ]| ever so$5#1$ nice with her) and she had become accustomed to$4$ the
010:100,19['  ]| life of the laundry. Joe was a good fellow. She had nursed him
010:100,20['  ]| and Alphy too; and Joe used often say:
010:100,21[V  ]| ~~ Mamma is mamma but Maria is my proper mother.
010:100,22['  ]| After the break-up at home the boys had got her that$6#2$ position
010:100,23['  ]| in$4$ the \Dublin\ \by$4$\ \Lamplight\ laundry, and she liked it.
010:100,24['  ]| She used to$9$ have such a bad opinion of Protestants but now
010:100,25['  ]| she thought they were very nice people, a little quiet and serious,
010:100,26['  ]| but still very nice people to$9$ live with. Then she had her
010:100,27['  ]| plants in$4$ the conservatory and she liked looking after them.
010:100,28['  ]| She had lovely ferns and wax-plants and, whenever anyone
010:100,29['  ]| came to$9$ visit her, she always gave the visitor one or two slips
010:100,30['  ]| from her conservatory. There was one thing she did not like$1$
010:100,31['  ]| and that$6#2$ was the tracts on$4$ the walls; but the matron was such a
010:100,32['  ]| nice person to$9$ deal with, so$5#1$ genteel.
010:100,33['  ]| When the cook told her everything was ready she went
010:100,34['  ]| into the women's room and began to$9$ pull the big bell. In$4$ a
010:101,01['  ]| few minutes the women began to$9$ come in$5$ by$4$ twos and
010:101,02['  ]| threes, wiping their steaming hands in$4$ their petticoats and pulling
010:101,03['  ]| down the sleeves of their blouses over their red steaming
010:101,04['  ]| arms. They settled down before their huge mugs which$6#1$ the
010:101,05['  ]| cook and the dummy filled up$5$ with hot tea, already mixed
010:101,06['  ]| with milk and sugar in$4$ huge tin cans. Maria superintended the
010:101,07['  ]| distribution of the barmbrack and saw that$3$ every woman got
010:101,08['  ]| her four slices. There was a great deal of laughing and joking
010:101,09['  ]| during the meal. Lizzie*Fleming said Maria was sure to$9$ get the
010:101,10['  ]| ring and, though Fleming had said that$3$ for$4$ so$5#1$ many Hallow
010:101,11['  ]| Eves, Maria had to$9$ laugh and say she did not want any ring or
010:101,12['  ]| man either; and when she laughed her grey-green eyes
010:101,13['  ]| sparkled with disappointed shyness and the tip of her nose
010:101,14['  ]| nearly met the tip of her chin. Then Ginger*Mooney lifted up$5$
010:101,15['  ]| her mug of tea and proposed Maria's health while all the other
010:101,16['  ]| women clattered with their mugs on$4$ the table, and said she
010:101,17['  ]| was sorry she had not a sup of porter to$9$ drink it in$4$. And Maria
010:101,18['  ]| laughed again till the tip of her nose nearly met the tip of her
010:101,19['  ]| chin and till her minute body nearly shook itself asunder because
010:101,20['  ]| she knew that$3$ Mooney meant well though, of course,
010:101,21['  ]| she had the notions of a common woman.
010:101,22['  ]| But was not Maria glad when the women had finished their
010:101,23['  ]| tea and the cook and the dummy had begun to$9$ clear away the
010:101,24['  ]| tea-things! She went into her little bedroom and, remembering
010:101,25['  ]| that$3$ the next morning was a mass morning, changed the
010:101,26['  ]| hand of the alarm from seven to$4$ six. Then she took off her
010:101,27['  ]| working skirt and her house-boots and laid her best skirt out
010:101,28['  ]| on$4$ the bed and her tiny dress-boots beside the foot of the bed.
010:101,29['  ]| She changed her blouse too and, as she stood before the mirror,
010:101,30['  ]| she thought of how she used to$9$ dress for$4$ mass on$4$ Sunday
010:101,31['  ]| morning when she was a young girl; and she looked with
010:101,32['  ]| quaint affection at the diminutive body which$6#1$ she had so$5#1$ often
010:101,33['  ]| adorned. In$4$ spite of its years she found it a nice tidy little body.
010:101,34['  ]| When she got outside the streets were shining with rain and
010:102,01['  ]| she was glad of her old brown raincloak. The tram was full
010:102,02['  ]| and she had to$9$ sit on$4$ the little stool at the end of the car, facing
010:102,03['  ]| all the people, with her toes barely touching the floor. She
010:102,04['  ]| arranged in$4$ her mind all she was going to$9$ do and thought how
010:102,05['  ]| much better it was to$9$ be independent and to$9$ have your own
010:102,06['  ]| money in$4$ your pocket. She hoped they would have a nice
010:102,07['  ]| evening. She was sure they would but she could not help
010:102,08['  ]| thinking what a pity it was Alphy and Joe were not speaking.
010:102,09['  ]| They were always falling out now but when they were boys
010:102,10['  ]| together they used to$9$ be the best of friends: but such was life.
010:102,11['  ]| She got out of her tram at the Pillar and ferreted her way
010:102,12['  ]| quickly among the crowds. She went into Downes's cakeshop
010:102,13['  ]| but the shop was so$5#1$ full of people that$3$ it was a long time
010:102,14['  ]| before she could get herself attended to$5$. She bought a dozen
010:102,15['  ]| of mixed penny cakes, and at last came out of the shop laden
010:102,16['  ]| with a big bag. Then she thought what else would she buy:
010:102,17['  ]| she wanted to$9$ buy something really nice. They would be
010:102,18['  ]| sure to$9$ have plenty of apples and nuts. It was hard to$9$ know
010:102,19['  ]| what to$9$ buy and all she could think of was cake. She decided
010:102,20['  ]| to$9$ buy some plumcake but Downes's plumcake had not
010:102,21['  ]| enough almond icing on$4$ top of it so$3$ she went over to$4$ a shop in$4$
010:102,22['  ]| Henry*Street. Here she was a long time in$4$ suiting herself and
010:102,23['  ]| the stylish young lady behind the counter, who$6#1$ was evidently
010:102,24['  ]| a little annoyed by$4$ her, asked her was it wedding-cake she
010:102,25['  ]| wanted to$9$ buy. That$6#2$ made Maria blush and smile at the young
010:102,26['  ]| lady; but the young lady took it all very seriously and finally
010:102,27['  ]| cut a thick slice of plumcake, parcelled it up$5$ and said:
010:102,28['  ]| ~~ Two-and-four, please.
010:102,29['  ]| She thought she would have to$9$ stand in$4$ the Drumcondra
010:102,30['  ]| tram because none of the young men seemed to$9$ notice her
010:102,31['  ]| but an elderly gentleman made room for$4$ her. He was a stout
010:102,32['  ]| gentleman and he wore a brown hard hat; he had a square red
010:102,33['  ]| face and a greyish moustache. Maria thought he was a colonel-looking
010:103,01['  ]| gentleman and she reflected how much more polite
010:103,02['  ]| he was than the young men who$6#1$ simply stared straight before
010:103,03['  ]| them. The gentleman began to$9$ chat with her about Hallow
010:103,04['  ]| Eve and the rainy weather. He supposed the bag was full of
010:103,05['  ]| good things for$4$ the little ones and said it was only right that$3$
010:103,06['  ]| the youngsters should enjoy themselves while they were
010:103,07['  ]| young. Maria agreed with him and favoured him with demure
010:103,08['  ]| nods and hems. He was very nice with her, and when she was
010:103,09['  ]| getting out at the Canal Bridge she thanked him and bowed,
010:103,10['  ]| and he bowed to$4$ her and raised his hat and smiled agreeably;
010:103,11['  ]| and while she was going up$5$ along the terrace, bending her
010:103,12['  ]| tiny head under the rain, she thought how easy it was to$9$ know
010:103,13['  ]| a gentleman even when he has a drop taken.
010:103,14['  ]| Everybody said: 
010:103,14[Y  ]| \O,\ \here is\ \Maria\! 
010:103,14['  ]| when she came to$4$ Joe's
010:103,15['  ]| house. Joe was there, having come home from business, and
010:103,16['  ]| all the children had their Sunday dresses on$5$. There were two
010:103,17['  ]| big girls in$5$ from next door and games were going on$5$. Maria
010:103,18['  ]| gave the bag of cakes to$4$ the eldest boy, Alphy, to$9$ divide and
010:103,19['  ]| Mrs*Donnelly said it was too good of her to$9$ bring such a big
010:103,20['  ]| bag of cakes and made all the children say:
010:103,21[Y  ]| ~~ Thanks, Maria.
010:103,22['  ]| But Maria said she had brought something special for$4$ papa
010:103,23['  ]| and mamma, something they would be sure to$9$ like$1$, and she
010:103,24['  ]| began to$9$ look for$4$ her plumcake. She tried in$4$ Downes's bag
010:103,25['  ]| and then in$4$ the pockets of her raincloak and then on$4$ the hall-stand
010:103,26['  ]| but nowhere could she find it. Then she asked all the
010:103,27['  ]| children had any of them eaten it ~~ by$4$ mistake, of course ~~ but
010:103,28['  ]| the children all said 
010:103,28[Y  ]| no$7$ 
010:103,28['  ]| and looked as if they did not like$1$ to$9$ eat
010:103,29['  ]| cakes if they were to$9$ be accused of stealing. Everybody had
010:103,30['  ]| a solution for$4$ the mystery and Mrs*Donnelly said it was plain
010:103,31['  ]| that$3$ Maria had left it behind her in$4$ the tram. Maria, remembering
010:103,32['  ]| how confused the gentleman with the greyish moustache
010:103,33['  ]| had made her, coloured with shame and vexation and
010:104,01['  ]| disappointment. At the thought of the failure of her little surprise
010:104,02['  ]| and of the two and fourpence she had thrown away for$4$
010:104,03['  ]| nothing she nearly cried outright.
010:104,04['  ]| But Joe said it did not matter and made her sit down by$4$ the
010:104,05['  ]| fire. He was very nice with her. He told her all that$6#1$ went on$5$
010:104,06['  ]| in$4$ his office, repeating for$4$ her a smart answer which$6#1$ he had
010:104,07['  ]| made to$4$ the manager. Maria did not understand why Joe
010:104,08['  ]| laughed so$5#1$ much over the answer he had made but she said
010:104,09['  ]| that$3$ the manager must have been a very overbearing person
010:104,10['  ]| to$9$ deal with. Joe said he was not so$5#1$ bad when you knew how
010:104,11['  ]| to$9$ take him, that$3$ he was a decent sort so$5#1$ long as you did not rub
010:104,12['  ]| him the wrong way. Mrs*Donnelly played the piano for$4$ the
010:104,13['  ]| children and they danced and sang. Then the two next-door
010:104,14['  ]| girls handed round the nuts. Nobody could find the nutcrackers
010:104,15['  ]| and Joe was nearly getting cross over it and asked
010:104,16['  ]| how did they expect Maria to$9$ crack nuts without a nutcracker.
010:104,17['  ]| But Maria said she did not like$1$ nuts and that$3$ they were not to$9$
010:104,18['  ]| bother about her. Then Joe asked would she take a bottle of
010:104,19['  ]| stout and Mrs*Donnelly said there was port wine too in$4$ the
010:104,20['  ]| house if she would prefer that$6#2$. Maria said she would rather
010:104,21['  ]| they did not ask her to$9$ take anything: but Joe insisted.
010:104,22['  ]| So$3$ Maria let him have his way and they sat by$4$ the fire talking
010:104,23['  ]| over old times and Maria thought she would put in$4$ a good word
010:104,24['  ]| for$4$ Alphy. But Joe cried that$3$ God might strike him stone dead
010:104,25['  ]| if ever he spoke a word to$4$ his brother again and Maria said she
010:104,26['  ]| was sorry she had mentioned the matter. Mrs*Donnelly told
010:104,27['  ]| her husband it was a great shame for$4$ him to$9$ speak that$6#2$ way of
010:104,28['  ]| his own flesh and blood but Joe said that$3$ Alphy was no$2$ brother
010:104,29['  ]| of his and there was nearly being a row on$4$ the head of it. But
010:104,30['  ]| Joe said he would not lose his temper on$4$ account of the night it
010:104,31['  ]| was and asked his wife to$9$ open some more stout. The two
010:104,32['  ]| next-door girls had arranged some Hallow Eve games and soon
010:104,33['  ]| everything was merry again. Maria was delighted to$9$ see the
010:104,34['  ]| children so$5#1$ merry and Joe and his wife in$4$ such good spirits. The
010:105,01['  ]| next-door girls put some saucers on$4$ the table and then led the
010:105,02['  ]| children up$5$ to$4$ the table, blindfold. One got the prayer-book and
010:105,03['  ]| the other three got the water; and when one of the next-door
010:105,04['  ]| girls got the ring Mrs*Donnelly shook her finger at the blushing
010:105,05['  ]| girl as much as to$9$ say: 
010:105,05[W  ]| \O\, \I\ \know\ \all\ \about\ \it\! 
010:105,05['  ]| They insisted then
010:105,06['  ]| on$4$ blindfolding Maria and leading her up$5$ to$4$ the table to$9$ see
010:105,07['  ]| what she would get; and, while they were putting on$5$ the bandage,
010:105,08['  ]| Maria laughed and laughed again till the tip of her nose
010:105,09['  ]| nearly met the tip of her chin.
010:105,10['  ]| They led her up$5$ to$4$ the table amid laughing and joking and
010:105,11['  ]| she put her hand out in$4$ the air as she was told to$9$ do. She moved
010:105,12['  ]| her hand about here and there in$4$ the air and descended on$4$ one
010:105,13['  ]| of the saucers. She felt a soft wet substance with her fingers
010:105,14['  ]| and was surprised that$3$ nobody spoke or took off her bandage.
010:105,15['  ]| There was a pause for$4$ a few seconds; and then a great deal of
010:105,16['  ]| scuffling and whispering. Somebody said something about
010:105,17['  ]| the garden, and at last Mrs*Donnelly said something very
010:105,18['  ]| cross to$4$ one of the next-door girls and told her to$9$ throw it out
010:105,19['  ]| at once: that$6#2$ was no$2$ play. Maria understood that$3$ it was wrong
010:105,20['  ]| that$6#2$ time and so$3$ she had to$9$ do it over again: and this time she
010:105,21['  ]| got the prayer-book.
010:105,22['  ]| After that$6#2$ Mrs*Donnelly played Miss*McCloud's Reel
010:105,23['  ]| for$4$ the children and Joe made Maria take a glass of wine. Soon
010:105,24['  ]| they were all quite merry again and Mrs*Donnelly said Maria
010:105,25['  ]| would enter a convent before the year was out because she
010:105,26['  ]| had got the prayer-book. Maria had never seen Joe so$5#1$ nice
010:105,27['  ]| to$4$ her as he was that$6#2$ night, so$5#1$ full of pleasant talk and reminiscences.
010:105,28['  ]| She said they were all very good to$4$ her.
010:105,29['  ]| At last the children grew tired and sleepy and Joe asked
010:105,30['  ]| Maria would she not sing some little song before she went,
010:105,31['  ]| one of the old songs. Mrs*Donnelly said 
010:105,31[W  ]| \Do\, \please\, \Maria\!
010:105,32['  ]| and so$3$ Maria had to$9$ get up$5$ and stand beside the piano. Mrs*Donnelly
010:105,33['  ]| bade the children be quiet and listen to$4$ Maria's song.
010:105,34['  ]| Then she played the prelude and said 
010:105,34[W  ]| \Now\, \Maria\! 
010:105,34['  ]| and Maria,
010:106,01['  ]| blushing very much, began to$9$ sing in$4$ a tiny quavering voice.
010:106,02['  ]| She sang \I\ \Dreamt\ \that$3$\ \I\ \Dwelt\, and when she came to$4$ the
010:106,03['  ]| second verse she sang again:
010:106,04[Z  ]| \I dreamt that$3$ I dwelt in$4$ marble halls\
010:106,05[Z  ]| \With vassals and serfs at my side\
010:106,06[Z  ]| \And of all who$6#1$ assembled within those walls\
010:106,07[Z  ]| \That$3$ I was the hope and the pride\.
010:106,08[Z  ]| \I had riches too great to$9$ count, could boast\
010:106,09[Z  ]| \Of a high ancestral name\,
010:106,10[Z  ]| \But I also dreamt, which$6#1$ pleased me most\,
010:106,11[Z  ]| \That$3$ you loved me still the same\.
010:106,12['  ]| But no*one tried to$9$ show her her mistake; and when she had
010:106,13['  ]| ended her song Joe was very much moved. He said that$3$ there
010:106,14['  ]| was no$2$ time like$4$ the long ago and no$2$ music for$4$ him like$4$ poor
010:106,15['  ]| old Balfe, whatever other people might say; and his eyes filled
010:106,16['  ]| up$5$ so$5#1$ much with tears that$3$ he could not find what he was looking
010:106,17['  ]| for$4$ and in$4$ the end he had to$9$ ask his wife to$9$ tell him
010:106,18['  ]| where the corkscrew was.
011:107,00@@@@@|
011:107,01['  ]| <A PAINFUL CASE>
011:107,02['  ]| Mr*James*Duffy lived in$4$ Chapelizod because he wished
011:107,03['  ]| to$9$ live as far as possible from the city of which$6#1$ he was a citizen
011:107,04['  ]| and because he found all the other suburbs of Dublin
011:107,05['  ]| mean, modern and pretentious. He lived in$4$ an old sombre
011:107,06['  ]| house and from his windows he could look into the disused
011:107,07['  ]| distillery or upwards along the shallow river on$4$ which$6#1$ Dublin
011:107,08['  ]| is built. The lofty walls of his uncarpeted room were free
011:107,09['  ]| from pictures. He had himself bought every article of furniture
011:107,10['  ]| in$4$ the room: a black iron bedstead, an iron washstand,
011:107,11['  ]| four cane chairs, a clothes-rack, a coal-scuttle, a fender and
011:107,12['  ]| irons and a square table on$4$ which$6#1$ lay a double desk. A bookcase
011:107,13['  ]| had been made in$4$ an alcove by$4$ means of shelves of white
011:107,14['  ]| wood. The bed was clothed with white bed-clothes and a
011:107,15['  ]| black and scarlet rug covered the foot. A little hand-mirror
011:107,16['  ]| hung above the washstand and during the day a white-shaded
011:107,17['  ]| lamp stood as the sole ornament of the mantelpiece. The books
011:107,18['  ]| on$4$ the white wooden shelves were arranged from below upwards
011:107,19['  ]| according to$4$ bulk. A complete Wordsworth stood at
011:108,01['  ]| one end of the lowest shelf and a copy of the \Maynooth*Catechism\, 
011:108,02['  ]| sewn into the cloth cover of a notebook, stood
011:108,03['  ]| at one end of the top shelf. Writing materials were always on$4$
011:108,04['  ]| the desk. In$4$ the desk lay a manuscript translation of Hauptmann's
011:108,05['  ]| \Michael*Kramer\, the stage directions of which$6#1$ were
011:108,06['  ]| written in$4$ purple ink, and a little sheaf of papers held together
011:108,07['  ]| by$4$ a brass pin. In$4$ these sheets a sentence was inscribed from
011:108,08['  ]| time to$4$ time and, in$4$ an ironical moment, the headline of an
011:108,09['  ]| advertisement for$4$ \Bile\ \Beans\ had been pasted on$5$ to$4$ the first
011:108,10['  ]| sheet. On$4$ lifting the lid of the desk a faint fragrance escaped ~
011:108,11['  ]| the fragrance of new cedarwood pencils or of a bottle of gum
011:108,12['  ]| or of an over-ripe apple which$6#1$ might have been left there
011:108,13['  ]| and forgotten.
011:108,14['  ]| Mr*Duffy abhorred anything which$6#1$ betokened physical
011:108,15['  ]| or mental disorder. A media*eval doctor would have called
011:108,16['  ]| him saturnine. His face, which$6#1$ carried the entire tale of his
011:108,17['  ]| years, was of the brown tint of Dublin streets. On$4$ his long and
011:108,18['  ]| rather large head grew dry black hair and a tawny moustache
011:108,19['  ]| did not quite cover an unamiable mouth. His cheekbones also
011:108,20['  ]| gave his face a harsh character; but there was no$2$ harshness in$4$
011:108,21['  ]| the eyes which$6#1$, looking at the world from under their tawny
011:108,22['  ]| eyebrows, gave the impression of a man ever alert to$9$ greet a
011:108,23['  ]| redeeming instinct in$4$ others but often disappointed. He lived
011:108,24['  ]| at a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with
011:108,25['  ]| doubtful side-glances. He had an odd autobiograpical habit
011:108,26['  ]| which$6#1$ led him to$9$ compose in$4$ his mind from time to$4$ time a
011:108,27['  ]| short sentence about himself containing a subject in$4$ the third
011:108,28['  ]| person and a predicate in$4$ the past tense. He never gave alms
011:108,29['  ]| to$4$ beggars and walked firmly, carrying a stout hazel.
011:108,30['  ]| He had been for$4$ many years cashier of a private bank in$4$
011:108,31['  ]| Baggot*Street. Every morning he came in$5$ from Chapelizod
011:108,32['  ]| by$4$ tram. At midday he went to$4$ Dan*Burke's and took his lunch
011:108,33['  ]| ~~ a bottle of lager beer and a small trayful of arrowroot biscuits.
011:108,34['  ]| At four o'clock he was set free. He dined in$4$ an eating-house
011:109,01['  ]| in$4$ George's*Street where he felt himself safe from the
011:109,02['  ]| society of Dublin's gilded youth and where there was a certain
011:109,03['  ]| plain honesty in$4$ the bill of fare. His evenings were spent either
011:109,04['  ]| before his landlady's piano or roaming about the outskirts of
011:109,05['  ]| the city. His liking for$4$ Mozart's music brought him sometimes
011:109,06['  ]| to$4$ an opera or a concert: these were the only dissipations of his
011:109,07['  ]| life.
011:109,08['  ]| He had neither companions nor friends, church nor creed.
011:109,09['  ]| He lived his spiritual life without any communion with others,
011:109,10['  ]| visiting his relatives at Christmas and escorting them to$4$ the
011:109,11['  ]| cemetery when they died. He performed these two social
011:109,12['  ]| duties for$4$ old dignity' sake but conceded nothing further to$4$
011:109,13['  ]| the conventions which$6#1$ regulate the civic life. He allowed
011:109,14['  ]| himself to$9$ think that$3$ in$4$ certain circumstances he would rob his
011:109,15['  ]| bank but, as these circumstances never arose, his life rolled
011:109,16['  ]| out evenly ~~ an adventureless tale.
011:109,17['  ]| One evening he found himself sitting beside two ladies in$4$
011:109,18['  ]| the Rotunda. The house, thinly peopled and silent, gave distressing
011:109,19['  ]| prophecy of failure. The lady who$6#1$ sat next him
011:109,20['  ]| looked round at the deserted house once or twice and then
011:109,21['  ]| said:
011:109,22[W  ]| ~~ What a pity there is such a poor house to-night! It is so$5#1$
011:109,23[W  ]| hard on$4$ people to$9$ have to$9$ sing to$4$ empty benches.
011:109,24['  ]| He took the remark as an invitation to$9$ talk. He was surprised
011:109,25['  ]| that$3$ she seemed so$5#1$ little awkward. While they talked
011:109,26['  ]| he tried to$9$ fix her permanently in$4$ his memory. When he
011:109,27['  ]| learned that$3$ the young girl beside her was her daughter he
011:109,28['  ]| judged her to$9$ be a year or so$5#2$ younger than himself. Her face,
011:109,29['  ]| which$6#1$ must have been handsome, had remained intelligent.
011:109,30['  ]| It was an oval face with strongly marked features. The eyes
011:109,31['  ]| were very dark blue and steady. Their gaze began with a defiant
011:109,32['  ]| note but was confused by$4$ what seemed a deliberate
011:109,33['  ]| swoon of the pupil into the iris, revealing for$4$ an instant a temperament
011:109,34['  ]| of great sensibility. The pupil reasserted itself
011:110,01['  ]| quickly, this half-disclosed nature fell again under the reign
011:110,02['  ]| of prudence, and her astrakhan jacket, moulding a bosom of a
011:110,03['  ]| certain fulness, struck the note of defiance more definitely.
011:110,04['  ]| He met her again a few weeks afterwards at a concert in$4$
011:110,05['  ]| Earlsfort Terrace and seized the moments when her daughter's
011:110,06['  ]| attention was diverted to$9$ become intimate. She alluded
011:110,07['  ]| once or twice to$4$ her husband but her tone was not such as to$9$
011:110,08['  ]| make the allusion a warning. Her name was Mrs*Sinico. Her
011:110,09['  ]| husband's great-great-grandfather had come from Leghorn.
011:110,10['  ]| Her husband was captain of a mercantile boat plying between
011:110,11['  ]| Dublin and Holland; and they had one child.
011:110,12['  ]| Meeting her a third time by$4$ accident he found courage to$9$
011:110,13['  ]| make an appointment. She came. This was the first of many
011:110,14['  ]| meetings; they met always in$4$ the evening and chose the
011:110,15['  ]| most quiet quarters for$4$ their walks together. Mr*Duffy, however,
011:110,16['  ]| had a distaste for$4$ underhand ways and, finding that$3$ they
011:110,17['  ]| were compelled to$9$ meet stealthily, he forced her to$9$ ask him
011:110,18['  ]| to$4$ her house. Captain*Sinico encouraged his visits, thinking
011:110,19['  ]| that$3$ his daughter's hand was in$4$ question. He had dismissed his
011:110,20['  ]| wife so$5#1$ sincerely from his gallery of pleasures that$3$ he did not
011:110,21['  ]| suspect that$3$ anyone else would take an interest in$4$ her. As
011:110,22['  ]| the husband was often away and the daughter out giving
011:110,23['  ]| music lessons Mr*Duffy had many opportunities of enjoying
011:110,24['  ]| the lady's society. Neither he nor she had had any such adventure
011:110,25['  ]| before and neither was conscious of any incongruity.
011:110,26['  ]| Little by$4$ little he entangled his thoughts with hers. He lent
011:110,27['  ]| her books, provided her with ideas, shared his intellectual life
011:110,28['  ]| with her. She listened to$4$ all.
011:110,29['  ]| Sometimes in$4$ return for$4$ his theories she gave out some fact
011:110,30['  ]| of her own life. With almost maternal solicitude she urged him
011:110,31['  ]| to$9$ let his nature open to$4$ the full; she became his confessor. He
011:110,32['  ]| told her that$3$ for$4$ some time he had assisted at the meetings of an
011:110,33['  ]| Irish Socialist Party where he had felt himself a unique figure
011:110,34['  ]| amidst a score of sober workmen in$4$ a garret lit by$4$ an inefficient
011:111,01['  ]| oil-lamp. When the party had divided into three sections, each
011:111,02['  ]| under its own leader and in$4$ its own garret, he had discontinued
011:111,03['  ]| his attendances. The workmen's discussions, he said, were too
011:111,04['  ]| timorous; the interest they took in$4$ the question of wages was
011:111,05['  ]| inordinate. He felt that$3$ they were hard-featured realists and
011:111,06['  ]| that$3$ they resented an exactitude which$6#1$ was the product of a
011:111,07['  ]| leisure not within their reach. No$2$ social revolution, he told her,
011:111,08['  ]| would be likely to$9$ strike Dublin for$4$ some centuries.
011:111,09['  ]| She asked him why did he not write out his thoughts. For$4$
011:111,10['  ]| what, he asked her, with careful scorn. To$9$ compete with
011:111,11['  ]| phrasemongers, incapable of thinking consecutively for$4$ sixty
011:111,12['  ]| seconds? To$9$ submit himself to$4$ the criticisms of an obtuse
011:111,13['  ]| middle class which$6#1$ entrusted its morality to$4$ policemen and
011:111,14['  ]| its fine arts to$4$ impresarios?
011:111,15['  ]| He went often to$4$ her little cottage outside Dublin; often
011:111,16['  ]| they spent their evenings alone. Little by$4$ little, as their
011:111,17['  ]| thoughts entangled, they spoke of subjects less remote. Her
011:111,18['  ]| companionship was like$4$ a warm soil about an exotic. Many
011:111,19['  ]| times she allowed the dark to$9$ fall upon$4$ them, refraining from
011:111,20['  ]| lighting the lamp. The dark discreet room, their isolation, the
011:111,21['  ]| music that$6#1$ still vibrated in$4$ their ears united them. This union
011:111,22['  ]| exalted him, wore away the rough edges of his character, emotionalised
011:111,23['  ]| his mental life. Sometimes he caught himself listening
011:111,24['  ]| to$4$ the sound of his own voice. He thought that$3$ in$4$ her eyes
011:111,25['  ]| he would ascend to$4$ an angelical stature; and, as he attached the
011:111,26['  ]| fervent nature of his companion more and more closely to$4$ him,
011:111,27['  ]| he heard the strange impersonal voice which$6#1$ he recognised
011:111,28['  ]| as his own, insisting on$4$ the soul's incurable loneliness. We
011:111,29['  ]| cannot give ourselves, it said: we are our own. The end of
011:111,30['  ]| these discourses was that$6#2$ one night during which$6#1$ she had
011:111,31['  ]| shown every sign of unusual excitement, Mrs*Sinico caught
011:111,32['  ]| up$5$ his hand passionately and pressed it to$4$ her cheek.
011:111,33['  ]| Mr*Duffy was very much surprised. Her interpretation of
011:111,34['  ]| his words disillusioned him. He did not visit her for$4$ a week;
011:112,01['  ]| then he wrote to$4$ her asking her to$9$ meet him. As he did not
011:112,02['  ]| wish their last interview to$9$ be troubled by$4$ the influence of
011:112,03['  ]| their ruined confessional they met in$4$ a little cakeshop near
011:112,04['  ]| the Parkgate. It was cold autumn weather but in$4$ spite of the
011:112,05['  ]| cold they wandered up$4$ and down the roads of the Park for$4$
011:112,06['  ]| nearly three hours. They agreed to$9$ break off their intercourse:
011:112,07['  ]| every bond, he said, is a bond to$4$ sorrow. When they came out
011:112,08['  ]| of the Park they walked in$4$ silence towards the tram; but here
011:112,09['  ]| she began to$9$ tremble so$5#1$ violently that$3$, fearing another collapse
011:112,10['  ]| on$4$ her part, he bade her good-bye quickly and left her. A few
011:112,11['  ]| days later he received a parcel containing his books and music.
011:112,12['  ]| Four years passed. Mr*Duffy returned to$4$ his even way of
011:112,13['  ]| life. His room still bore witness of the orderliness of his mind.
011:112,14['  ]| Some new pieces of music encumbered the music-stand in$4$ the
011:112,15['  ]| lower room and on$4$ his shelves stood two volumes by$4$ Nietzsche:
011:112,16['  ]| \Thus*Spake*Zarathustra\ and \The*Gay*Science\. He wrote
011:112,17['  ]| seldom in$4$ the sheaf of papers which$6#1$ lay in$4$ his desk. One of his
011:112,18['  ]| sentences, written two months after his last interview with
011:112,19['  ]| Mrs*Sinico, read: Love between man and man is impossible
011:112,20['  ]| because there must not be sexual intercourse and friendship
011:112,21['  ]| between man and woman is impossible because there must be
011:112,22['  ]| sexual intercourse. He kept away from concerts lest he should
011:112,23['  ]| meet her. His father died; the junior partner of the bank retired.
011:112,24['  ]| And still every morning he went into the city by$4$ tram
011:112,25['  ]| and every evening walked home from the city after having
011:112,26['  ]| dined moderately in$4$ George's*Street and read the evening
011:112,27['  ]| paper for$4$ dessert.
011:112,28['  ]| One evening as he was about to$9$ put a morsel of corned beef
011:112,29['  ]| and cabbage into his mouth his hand stopped. His eyes fixed
011:112,30['  ]| themselves on$4$ a paragraph in$4$ the evening paper which$6#1$ he had
011:112,31['  ]| propped against the water-carafe. He replaced the morsel of
011:112,32['  ]| food on$4$ his plate and read the paragraph attentively. Then he
011:112,33['  ]| drank a glass of water, pushed his plate to$4$ one side, doubled
011:113,01['  ]| the paper down before him between his elbows and read the
011:113,02['  ]| paragraph over and over again. The cabbage began to$9$ deposit
011:113,03['  ]| a cold white grease on$4$ his plate. The girl came over to$4$ him
011:113,04['  ]| to$9$ ask was his dinner not properly cooked. He said it was very
011:113,05['  ]| good and ate a few mouthfuls of it with difficulty. Then he
011:113,06['  ]| paid his bill and went out.
011:113,07['  ]| He walked along quickly through the November twilight,
011:113,08['  ]| his stout hazel stick striking the ground regularly, the fringe
011:113,09['  ]| of the buff \Mail\ peeping out of a side-pocket of his tight reefer
011:113,10['  ]| over-coat. On$4$ the lonely road which$6#1$ leads from the Parkgate
011:113,11['  ]| to$4$ Chapelizod he slackened his pace. His stick struck the
011:113,12['  ]| ground less emphatically and his breath, issuing irregularly,
011:113,13['  ]| almost with a sighing sound, condensed in$4$ the wintry air.
011:113,14['  ]| When he reached his house he went up$5$ at once to$4$ his bedroom
011:113,15['  ]| and, taking the paper from his pocket, read the paragraph
011:113,16['  ]| again by$4$ the failing light of the window. He read it not
011:113,17['  ]| aloud, but moving his lips as a priest does when he reads the
011:113,18['  ]| prayers \Secreto\. This was the paragraph:
011:113,19[Z  ]| DEATH OF A LADY AT SYDNEY PARADE
011:113,20[Z  ]| A PAINFUL CASE
011:113,21[Z  ]| To-day at the City of Dublin Hospital the Deputy*Coroner
011:113,22[Z  ]| (in$4$ the absence of Mr*Leverett) held an inquest on$4$ the body
011:113,23[Z  ]| of Mrs*Emily Sinico, aged forty-three years, who$6#1$ was killed
011:113,24[Z  ]| at Sydney Parade Station yesterday evening. The evidence
011:113,25[Z  ]| showed that$3$ the deceased lady, while attempting to$9$ cross the
011:113,26[Z  ]| line, was knocked down by$4$ the engine of the ten o'clock slow
011:113,27[Z  ]| train from Kingstown, thereby sustaining injuries of the head
011:113,28[Z  ]| and right side which$6#1$ led to$4$ her death.
011:113,29[Z  ]| James Lennon, driver of the engine, stated that$3$ he had been
011:113,30[Z  ]| in$4$ the employment of the railway company for$4$ fifteen years.
011:113,31[Z  ]| On$4$ hearing the guard's whistle he set the train in$4$ motion and
011:114,01[Z  ]| a second or two afterwards brought it to$9$ rest in$4$ response to$4$
011:114,02[Z  ]| loud cries. The train was going slowly.
011:114,03[Z  ]| P%*Dunne, railway porter, stated that$3$ as the train was about
011:114,04[Z  ]| to$9$ start he observed a woman attempting to$9$ cross the lines. He
011:114,05[Z  ]| ran towards her and shouted but, before he could reach her,
011:114,06[Z  ]| she was caught by$4$ the buffer of the engine and fell to$4$ the
011:114,07[Z  ]| ground.
011:114,08[Z  ]| A juror ~~ You saw the lady fall?
011:114,09[Z  ]| Witness ~~ Yes.
011:114,10[Z  ]| Police*Sergeant*Croly deposed that$3$ when he arrived he
011:114,11[Z  ]| found the deceased lying on$4$ the platform apparently dead. He
011:114,12[Z  ]| had the body taken to$4$ the waiting-room pending the arrival of
011:114,13[Z  ]| the ambulance.
011:114,14[Z  ]| Constable 57 E corroborated.
011:114,15[Z  ]| Dr*Haplin, assistant house surgeon of the City*of*Dublin*Hospital, 
011:114,16[Z  ]| stated that$3$ the deceased had two lower ribs fractured
011:114,17[Z  ]| and had sustained severe contusions of the right shoulder. The
011:114,18[Z  ]| right side of the head had been injured in$4$ the fall. The injuries
011:114,19[Z  ]| were not sufficient to$9$ have caused death in$4$ a normal person.
011:114,20[Z  ]| Death, in$4$ his opinion, had been probably due to$9$ shock and
011:114,21[Z  ]| sudden failure of the heart's action.
011:114,22[Z  ]| Mr*H%B%*Patterson*Finlay, on$4$ behalf of the railway company,
011:114,23[Z  ]| expressed his deep regret at the accident. The company
011:114,24[Z  ]| had always taken every precaution to$9$ prevent people crossing
011:114,25[Z  ]| the lines except by$4$ the bridges, both by$4$ placing notices in$4$
011:114,26[Z  ]| every station and by$4$ the use of patent spring gates at level crossings.
011:114,27[Z  ]| The deceased had been in$4$ the habit of crossing the lines
011:114,28[Z  ]| late at night from platform to$4$ platform and, in$4$ view of certain
011:114,29[Z  ]| other circumstances of the case, he did not think the railway
011:114,30[Z  ]| officials were to$9$ blame.
011:114,31[Z  ]| Captain*Sinico, of Leoville, Sydney*Parade, husband of
011:114,32[Z  ]| the deceased, also gave evidence. He stated that$3$ the deceased
011:114,33[Z  ]| was his wife. He was not in$4$ Dublin at the time of the accident
011:114,34[Z  ]| as he had arrived only that$6#2$ morning from Rotterdam. They
011:115,01[Z  ]| had been married for$4$ twenty-two years and had lived happily
011:115,02[Z  ]| until about two years ago when his wife began to$9$ be rather intemperate
011:115,03[Z  ]| in$4$ her habits.
011:115,04[Z  ]| Miss*Mary*Sinico said that$3$ of late her mother had been in$4$ the
011:115,05[Z  ]| habit of going out at night to$9$ buy spirits. She, witness, had often
011:115,06[Z  ]| tried to$9$ reason with her mother and had induced her to$9$ join
011:115,07[Z  ]| a league. She was not at home until an hour after the accident.
011:115,08[Z  ]| The jury returned a verdict in$4$ accordance with the medical
011:115,09[Z  ]| evidence and exonerated Lennon from all blame.
011:115,10[Z  ]| The Deputy*Coroner said it was a most painful case, and expressed
011:115,11[Z  ]| great sympathy with Captain*Sinico and his daughter.
011:115,12[Z  ]| He urged on$5$ the railway company to$9$ take strong measures
011:115,13[Z  ]| to$9$ prevent the possibility of similar accidents in$4$ the future.
011:115,14[Z  ]| No$2$ blame attached to$4$ anyone.
011:115,15['  ]| 
011:115,16['  ]| Mr*Duffy raised his eyes from the paper and gazed out of
011:115,17['  ]| his window on$4$ the cheerless evening landscape. The river lay
011:115,18['  ]| quiet beside the empty distillery and from time to$4$ time a light
011:115,19['  ]| appeared in$4$ some house on$4$ the Lucan road. What an end! The
011:115,20['  ]| whole narrative of her death revolted him and it revolted him
011:115,21['  ]| to$9$ think that$3$ he had ever spoken to$4$ her of what he held
011:115,22['  ]| sacred. The threadbare phrases, the inane expressions of sympathy,
011:115,23['  ]| the cautious words of a reporter won over to$9$ conceal
011:115,24['  ]| the details of a commonplace vulgar death attacked his stomach.
011:115,25['  ]| Not merely had she degraded herself; she had degraded
011:115,26['  ]| him. He saw the squalid tract of her vice, miserable and malodorous.
011:115,27['  ]| His soul's companion! He thought of the hobbling
011:115,28['  ]| wretches whom he had seen carrying cans and bottles to$9$ be
011:115,29['  ]| filled by$4$ the barman. Just God, what an end! Evidently she
011:115,30['  ]| had been unfit to$9$ live, without any strength of purpose, an
011:115,31['  ]| easy prey to$4$ habits, one of the wrecks on$4$ which$6#1$ civilisation
011:115,32['  ]| has been reared. But that$3$ she could have sunk so$5#1$ low! Was
011:115,33['  ]| it possible he had deceived himself so$5#1$ utterly about her? He
011:115,34['  ]| remembered her outburst of that$6#2$ night and interpreted it in$4$ a
011:116,01['  ]| harsher sense than he had ever done. He had no$2$ difficulty now
011:116,02['  ]| in$4$ approving of the course he had taken.
011:116,03['  ]| As the light failed and his memory began to$9$ wander he
011:116,04['  ]| thought her hand touched his. The shock which$6#1$ had first attacked
011:116,05['  ]| his stomach was now attacking his nerves. He put on$5$
011:116,06['  ]| his overcoat and hat quickly and went out. The cold air met
011:116,07['  ]| him on$4$ the threshold; it crept into the sleeves of his coat. When
011:116,08['  ]| he came to$4$ the public-house at Chapelizod*Bridge he went in$5$
011:116,09['  ]| and ordered a hot punch.
011:116,10['  ]| The proprietor served him obsequiously but did not venture
011:116,11['  ]| to$9$ talk. There were five or six working-men in$4$ the shop
011:116,12['  ]| discussing the value of a gentleman's estate in$4$ County Kildare.
011:116,13['  ]| They drank at intervals from their huge pint tumblers
011:116,14['  ]| and smoked, spitting often on$4$ the floor and sometimes dragging
011:116,15['  ]| the sawdust over their spits with their heavy boots. Mr*Duffy 
011:116,16['  ]| sat on$4$ his stool and gazed at them, without seeing or
011:116,17['  ]| hearing them. After a while they went out and he called for$4$
011:116,18['  ]| another punch. He sat a long time over it. The shop was very
011:116,19['  ]| quiet. The proprietor sprawled on$4$ the counter reading the
011:116,20['  ]| \Herald\ and yawning. Now and again a tram was heard swishing
011:116,21['  ]| along the lonely road outside.
011:116,22['  ]| As he sat there, living over his life with her and evoking
011:116,23['  ]| alternately the two images in$4$ which$6#1$ he now conceived her,
011:116,24['  ]| he realised that$3$ she was dead, that$3$ she had ceased to$9$ exist, that$3$
011:116,25['  ]| she had become a memory. He began to$9$ feel ill at ease. He
011:116,26['  ]| asked himself what else could he have done. He could not
011:116,27['  ]| have carried on$5$ a comedy of deception with her; he
011:116,28['  ]| could not have lived with her openly. He had done what
011:116,29['  ]| seemed to$4$ him best. How was he to$9$ blame? Now that$3$ she was
011:116,30['  ]| gone he understood how lonely her life must have been, sitting
011:116,31['  ]| night after night alone in$4$ that$6#2$ room. His life would be
011:116,32['  ]| lonely too until he, too, died, ceased to$9$ exist, became a memory
011:116,33['  ]| ~~ if anyone remembered him.
011:116,34['  ]| It was after nine o'clock when he left the shop. The night
011:117,01['  ]| was cold and gloomy. He entered the Park by$4$ the first gate
011:117,02['  ]| and walked along under the gaunt trees. He walked through
011:117,03['  ]| the bleak alleys where they had walked four years before. She
011:117,04['  ]| seemed to$9$ be near him in$4$ the darkness. At moments he seemed
011:117,05['  ]| to$9$ feel her voice touch his ear, her hand touch his. He stood
011:117,06['  ]| still to$9$ listen. Why had he withheld life from her? Why had
011:117,07['  ]| he sentenced her to$4$ death? He felt his moral nature falling
011:117,08['  ]| to$4$ pieces.
011:117,09['  ]| When he gained the crest of the Magazine Hill he halted
011:117,10['  ]| and looked along the river towards Dublin, the lights of which$6#1$
011:117,11['  ]| burned redly and hospitably in$4$ the cold night. He looked down
011:117,12['  ]| the slope and, at the base, in$4$ the shadow of the wall of the Park,
011:117,13['  ]| he saw some human figures lying. Those venal and furtive loves
011:117,14['  ]| filled him with despair. He gnawed the rectitude of his life; he
011:117,15['  ]| felt that$3$ he had been outcast from life's feast. One human being
011:117,16['  ]| had seemed to$9$ love him and he had denied her life and happiness:
011:117,17['  ]| he had sentenced her to$4$ ignominy, a death of shame. He
011:117,18['  ]| knew that$3$ the prostrate creatures down by$4$ the wall were
011:117,19['  ]| watching him and wished him gone. No*one wanted him; he
011:117,20['  ]| was outcast from life's feast. He turned his eyes to$4$ the grey
011:117,21['  ]| gleaming river, winding along towards Dublin. Beyond the
011:117,22['  ]| river he saw a goods train winding out of Kingsbridge Station,
011:117,23['  ]| like$4$ a worm with a fiery head winding through the darkness,
011:117,24['  ]| obstinately and laboriously. It passed slowly out of sight; but
011:117,25['  ]| still he heard in$4$ his ears the laborious drone of the engine reiterating
011:117,26['  ]| the syllables of her name.
011:117,27['  ]| He turned back the way he had come, the rhythm of the
011:117,28['  ]| engine pounding in$4$ his ears. He began to$9$ doubt the reality
011:117,29['  ]| of what memory told him. He halted under a tree and allowed
011:117,30['  ]| the rhythm to$9$ die away. He could not feel her near
011:117,31['  ]| him in$4$ the darkness nor her voice touch his ear. He waited for$4$
011:117,32['  ]| some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was
011:117,33['  ]| perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt
011:117,34['  ]| that$3$ he was alone.
012:118,00@@@@@|
012:118,01['  ]| <IVY DAY IN$4$ THE COMMITTEE ROOM>
012:118,02['  ]| Old Jack raked the cinders together with a piece of cardboard
012:118,03['  ]| and spread them judiciously over the whitening dome
012:118,04['  ]| of coals. When the dome was thinly covered his face lapsed
012:118,05['  ]| into darkness but, as he set himself to$9$ fan the fire again, his
012:118,06['  ]| crouching shadow ascended the opposite wall and his face
012:118,07['  ]| slowly re-emerged into light. It was an old man's face, very
012:118,08['  ]| bony and hairy. The moist blue eyes blinked at the fire and
012:118,09['  ]| the moist mouth fell open at times, munching once or twice
012:118,10['  ]| mechanically when it closed. When the cinders had caught he
012:118,11['  ]| laid the piece of cardboard against the wall, sighed and said:
012:118,12[N  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is better now, Mr*O'Connor.
012:118,13['  ]| Mr*O'Connor, a grey-haired young man, whose face was
012:118,14['  ]| disfigured by$4$ many blotches and pimples, had just brought
012:118,15['  ]| the tobacco for$4$ a cigarette into a shapely cylinder but when
012:118,16['  ]| spoken to$5$ he undid his handiwork meditatively. Then he began
012:118,17['  ]| to$9$ roll the tobacco again meditatively and after a moment's
012:118,18['  ]| thought decided to$9$ lick the paper.
012:119,01[O  ]| ~~ Did Mr*Tierney say when he would be back? 
012:119,01['  ]| he asked in$4$ a
012:119,02['  ]| husky falsetto.
012:119,03[N  ]| ~~ He did not say.
012:119,04['  ]| Mr*O'Connor put his cigarette into his mouth and began to$9$
012:119,05['  ]| search his pockets. He took out a pack of thin pasteboard
012:119,06['  ]| cards.
012:119,07[N  ]| ~~ I will$1$ get you a match, 
012:119,07['  ]| said the old man.
012:119,08[O  ]| ~~ Never mind, this will$1$ do, 
012:119,08['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:119,09['  ]| He selected one of the cards and read what was printed on$4$ it:
012:119,10[Z  ]| MUNICIPAL ELECTIONS
012:119,11[Z  ]| ROYAL EXCHANGE WARD
012:119,12[Z  ]| Mr*Richard*J%*Tierney, P%*L%*G%, respectfully solicits the
012:119,13[Z  ]| favour of your vote and influence at the coming election
012:119,14[Z  ]| in$4$ the Royal Exchange Ward
012:119,15['  ]| 
012:119,16['  ]| Mr*O'Connor had been engaged by$4$ Mr*Tierney's agent
012:119,17['  ]| to$9$ canvass one part of the ward but, as the weather was inclement
012:119,18['  ]| and his boots let in$4$ the wet, he spent a great part of
012:119,19['  ]| the day sitting by$4$ the fire in$4$ the Committee Room in$4$ Wicklow*Street 
012:119,20['  ]| with Jack, the old caretaker. They had been sitting
012:119,21['  ]| thus since the short day had grown dark. It was the sixth of
012:119,22['  ]| October, dismal and cold out of doors.
012:119,23['  ]| Mr*O'Connor tore a strip off the card and, lighting it, lit
012:119,24['  ]| his cigarette. As he did so$5#2$ the flame lit up$5$ a leaf of dark glossy
012:119,25['  ]| ivy in$4$ the lapel of his coat. The old man watched him attentively
012:119,26['  ]| and then, taking up$5$ the piece of cardboard again, began
012:119,27['  ]| to$9$ fan the fire slowly while his companion smoked.
012:119,28[N  ]| ~~ Ah, yes, 
012:119,28['  ]| he said, continuing, 
012:119,28[N  ]| it is hard to$9$ know what way to$9$
012:119,29[N  ]| bring up$5$ children. Now who$6#2$ would think he would turn out like$4$ that$6#2$!
012:119,30[N  ]| I sent him to$4$ the Christian*Brothers and I done what I could
012:119,31[N  ]| for$4$ him, and there he goes boosing about. I tried to$9$ make him
012:119,32[N  ]| someway decent.
012:119,33['  ]| He replaced the cardboard wearily.
012:120,01[N  ]| ~~ Only I am an old man now I would change his tune for$4$ him.
012:120,02[N  ]| I would take the stick to$4$ his back and beat him while I could stand
012:120,03[N  ]| over him ~~  as I done many a time before. The mother, you
012:120,04[N  ]| know, she cocks him up$5$ with this and that$6#2$ ~~
012:120,05[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is what ruins children, 
012:120,05['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:120,06[N  ]| ~~ To$9$ be sure it is, 
012:120,06['  ]| said the old man. 
012:120,06[N  ]| And little thanks you
012:120,07[N  ]| get for$4$ it, only impudence. He takes th'upper hand of me
012:120,08[N  ]| whenever he sees I have a sup taken. What is the world coming
012:120,09[N  ]| to$4$ when sons speaks that$6#2$ way to$4$ their father?
012:120,10[O  ]| ~~ What age is he? 
012:120,10['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:120,11[N  ]| ~~ Nineteen, 
012:120,11['  ]| said the old man.
012:120,12[O  ]| ~~ Why do not you put him to$4$ something?
012:120,13[N  ]| ~~ Sure, am not I never done at the drunken bowsy ever since
012:120,14[N  ]| he left school? 
012:120,14@n   | \I\ \will$1$ not\ \keep\ \you\, 
012:120,14[N  ]| I says. 
012:120,14@n   | \You\ \must\ \get\ \a\ \job\
012:120,15@n   | \for$4$\ \yourself\. 
012:120,15[N  ]| But, sure, it is worse whenever he gets a job; he
012:120,16[N  ]| drinks it all.
012:120,17['  ]| Mr*O'Connor shook his head in$4$ sympathy, and the old man
012:120,18['  ]| fell silent, gazing into the fire. Someone opened the door of
012:120,19['  ]| the room and called out:
012:120,20[P  ]| ~~ Hello! Is this a Freemasons' meeting?
012:120,21[N  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is that$6#2$? 
012:120,21['  ]| said the old man.
012:120,22[P  ]| ~~ What are you doing in$4$ the dark? 
012:120,22['  ]| asked a voice.
012:120,23[O  ]| ~~ Is that$6#2$ you, Hynes? 
012:120,23['  ]| asked Mr*O'Connor.
012:120,24[P  ]| ~~ Yes. What are you doing in$4$ the dark? 
012:120,24['  ]| said Mr*Hynes,
012:120,25['  ]| advancing into the light of the fire.
012:120,26['  ]| He was a tall slender young man with a light brown moustache.
012:120,27['  ]| Imminent little drops of rain hung at the brim of his hat
012:120,28['  ]| and the collar of his jacket-coat was turned up$5$.
012:120,29[P  ]| ~~ Well, Mat, 
012:120,29['  ]| he said to$4$ Mr*O'Connor, 
012:120,29[P  ]| how goes it?
012:120,30['  ]| Mr*O'Connor shook his head. The old man left the hearth
012:120,31['  ]| and, after stumbling about the room returned with two candlesticks
012:120,32['  ]| which$6#1$ he thrust one after the other into the fire and
012:120,33['  ]| carried to$4$ the table. A denuded room came into view and the
012:120,34['  ]| fire lost all its cheerful colour. The walls of the room were
012:121,01['  ]| bare except for$4$ a copy of an election address. In$4$ the middle
012:121,02['  ]| of the room was a small table on$4$ which$6#1$ papers were heaped.
012:121,03['  ]| Mr*Hynes leaned against the mantelpiece and asked:
012:121,04[P  ]| ~~ Has he paid you yet?
012:121,05[O  ]| ~~ Not yet, 
012:121,05['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor. 
012:121,05[O  ]| I hope to$4$ God he will$1$ not leave
012:121,06[O  ]| us in$4$ the lurch to-night.
012:121,07['  ]| Mr*Hynes laughed.
012:121,08[P  ]| ~~ O, he will$1$ pay you. Never fear, 
012:121,08['  ]| he said.
012:121,09[O  ]| ~~ I hope he will$1$ look smart about it if he means business, 
012:121,09['  ]| said
012:121,10['  ]| Mr*O'Connor.
012:121,11[P  ]| ~~ What do you think, Jack? 
012:121,11['  ]| said Mr*Hynes satirically to$4$
012:121,12['  ]| the old man.
012:121,13['  ]| The old man returned to$4$ his seat by$4$ the fire, saying:
012:121,14[N  ]| ~~ It is not but he has it, anyway. Not like$4$ the other tinker.
012:121,15[P  ]| ~~ What other tinker? 
012:121,15['  ]| said Mr*Hynes.
012:121,16[N  ]| ~~ Colgan, 
012:121,16['  ]| said the old man scornfully.
012:121,17[P  ]| ~~ Is it because Colgan is a working-man you say that$6#2$? What is
012:121,18[P  ]| the difference between a good honest bricklayer and a publican
012:121,19[P  ]| ~~ eh? Has not the working-man as good a right to$9$ be in$4$ the
012:121,20[P  ]| Corporation as anyone else ~~  ay, and a better right than those
012:121,21[P  ]| shoneens that$6#1$ are always hat in$4$ hand before any fellow with a
012:121,22[P  ]| handle to$4$ his name? Is not that$6#2$ so$5#2$, Mat? 
012:121,22['  ]| said Mr*Hynes, addressing
012:121,23['  ]| Mr*O'Connor.
012:121,24[O  ]| ~~ I think you are right, 
012:121,24['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:121,25[O  ]| ~~ One man is a plain honest man with no$2$ hunker-sliding
012:121,26[O  ]| about him. He goes in$5$ to$9$ represent the labour classes. This fellow
012:121,27[O  ]| you are working for$4$ only wants to$9$ get some job or other.
012:121,28[N  ]| ~~ Of course, the working-classes should be represented,
012:121,29['  ]| said the old man.
012:121,30[P  ]| ~~ The working-man, 
012:121,30['  ]| said Mr*Hynes, 
012:121,30[P  ]| gets all kicks and no$2$
012:121,31[P  ]| halfpence. But it is labour produces everything. The working-man
012:121,32[P  ]| is not looking for$4$ fat jobs for$4$ his sons and nephews
012:121,33[P  ]| and cousins. The working-man is not going to$9$ drag the
012:121,34[P  ]| honour of Dublin in$4$ the mud to$9$ please a German monarch.
012:122,01[N  ]| ~~ How is that$6#2$? 
012:122,01['  ]| said the old man.
012:122,02[P  ]| ~~ Do not you know they want to$9$ present an address of welcome
012:122,03[P  ]| to$4$ Edward Rex if he comes here next year? What do we
012:122,04[P  ]| want kowtowing to$4$ a foreign king?
012:122,05[O  ]| ~~ Our man will$1$ not vote for$4$ the address, 
012:122,05['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:122,06[O  ]| He goes in$5$ on$4$ the Nationalist ticket.
012:122,07[P  ]| ~~ Will$1$ not he? 
012:122,07['  ]| said Mr*Hynes. 
012:122,07[P  ]| Wait till you see whether he
012:122,08[P  ]| will$1$ or not. I know him. Is it Tricky*Dicky*Tierney?
012:122,09[O  ]| ~~ By$4$ God! perhaps you are right, Joe, 
012:122,09['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:122,10[O  ]| Anyway, I wish he would turn up$5$ with the spondulics.
012:122,11['  ]| The three men fell silent. The old man began to$9$ rake more
012:122,12['  ]| cinders together. Mr*Hynes took off his hat, shook it and
012:122,13['  ]| then turned down the collar of his coat, displaying, as he did
012:122,14['  ]| so$5#2$, an ivy leaf in$4$ the lapel.
012:122,15[P  ]| ~~ If this man was alive, 
012:122,15['  ]| he said, pointing to$4$ the leaf, 
012:122,15[P  ]| we would
012:122,16[P  ]| have no$2$ talk of an address of welcome.
012:122,17[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is true, 
012:122,17['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:122,18[N  ]| ~~ Musha, God be with them times! 
012:122,18['  ]| said the old man. 
012:122,18[N  ]| There
012:122,19[N  ]| was some life in$4$ it then.
012:122,20['  ]| The room was silent again. Then a bustling little man with
012:122,21['  ]| a snuffling nose and very cold ears pushed in$4$ the door. He
012:122,22['  ]| walked over quickly to$4$ the fire, rubbing his hands as if he
012:122,23['  ]| intended to$9$ produce a spark from them.
012:122,24[Q  ]| ~~ No$2$ money, boys, 
012:122,24['  ]| he said.
012:122,25[N  ]| ~~ Sit down here, Mr*Henchy, 
012:122,25['  ]| said the old man, offering
012:122,26['  ]| him his chair.
012:122,27[Q  ]| ~~ O, do not stir, Jack, do not stir, 
012:122,27['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:122,28['  ]| He nodded curtly to$4$ Mr*Hynes and sat down on$4$ the chair
012:122,29['  ]| which$6#1$ the old man vacated.
012:122,30[Q  ]| ~~ Did you serve Aungier*Street? 
012:122,30['  ]| he asked Mr*O'Connor.
012:122,31[O  ]| ~~ Yes, 
012:122,31['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, beginning to$9$ search his pockets
012:122,32['  ]| for$4$ memoranda.
012:122,33[Q  ]| ~~ Did you call on$4$ Grimes?
012:122,34[O  ]| ~~ I did.
012:123,01[Q  ]| ~~ Well? How does he stand?
012:123,02[O  ]| ~~ He would not promise. He said: 
012:123,02@v   | \I\ \will$1$ not\ \tell\ \anyone\ \what\
012:123,03@v   | \way\ \I am\ \goinga \to$9$\ \vote\. 
012:123,03[O  ]| But I think he will$1$ be all right.
012:123,04[Q  ]| ~~ Why so$5#2$?
012:123,05[O  ]| ~~ He asked me who$6#1$ the nominators were; and I told him.
012:123,06[O  ]| I mentioned Father*Burke's name, I think it will$1$ be all right.
012:123,07['  ]| Mr*Henchy began to$9$ snuffle and to$9$ rub his hands over the
012:123,08['  ]| fire at a terrific speed. Then he said:
012:123,09[Q  ]| ~~ For$4$ the love of God, Jack, bring us a bit of coal. There
012:123,10[Q  ]| must be some left.
012:123,11['  ]| The old man went out of the room.
012:123,12[Q  ]| ~~ It is no$2$ go, 
012:123,12['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, shaking his head. 
012:123,12[Q  ]| I asked
012:123,13[Q  ]| the little shoeboy, but he said: 
012:123,13@v   | \O\, \now\, \Mr*Henchy\, \when\ \I\
012:123,14@v   | \see\ \the\ \work\ \going\ \on$5$\ \properly\ \I\ \will$1$ not\ \forget\ \you,\ \you\ \may\ \be\
012:123,15@v   | \sure\. 
012:123,15[Q  ]| Mean little tinker! 'Usha, how could he be anything else?
012:123,16[P  ]| ~~ What did I tell you, Mat? 
012:123,16['  ]| said Mr*Hynes. 
012:123,16[P  ]| Tricky*Dicky*Tierney.
012:123,17['  ]| 
012:123,18[Q  ]| ~~ O, he is as tricky as they make 'em, 
012:123,18['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:123,18[Q  ]| He
012:123,19[Q  ]| has not got those little pigs' eyes for$4$ nothing. Blast his soul!
012:123,20[Q  ]| Could not he pay up$5$ like$4$ a man instead of: 
012:123,20@v   | \O\, \now\, \Mr*Henchy,\
012:123,21@v   | \I\ \must\ \speak\ \to$4$\ \Mr*Fanning\ \~~~  \I have\ \spent\ \a\ \lot\ \of\ \money?\
012:123,22[Q  ]| Mean little shoeboy of hell! I suppose he forgets the time his
012:123,23[Q  ]| little old father kept the hand-me-down shop in$4$ Mary's Lane.
012:123,24[O  ]| ~~ But is that$6#2$ a fact? 
012:123,24['  ]| asked Mr*O'Connor.
012:123,25[Q  ]| ~~ God, yes, 
012:123,25['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:123,25[Q  ]| Did you never hear that$6#2$? And
012:123,26[Q  ]| the men used to$9$ go in$5$ on$4$ Sunday morning before the houses
012:123,27[Q  ]| were open to$9$ buy a waistcoat or a trousers ~~  moya! But Tricky
012:123,28[Q  ]| Dicky's little old father always had a tricky little black bottle
012:123,29[Q  ]| up$5$ in$4$ a corner. Do you mind now? That$6#2$ is that$6#2$. That$6#2$ is where
012:123,30[Q  ]| he first saw the light.
012:123,31['  ]| The old man returned with a few lumps of coal which$6#1$ he
012:123,32['  ]| placed here and there on$4$ the fire.
012:123,33[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is a nice how-do-you-do, 
012:123,33['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor. 
012:123,33[O  ]| How
012:123,34[O  ]| does he expect us to$9$ work for$4$ him if he will$1$ not stump up$5$?
012:124,01[Q  ]| ~~ I can not help it, 
012:124,01['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:124,01[Q  ]| I expect to$9$ find the bailiffs
012:124,02[Q  ]| in$4$ the hall when I go home.
012:124,03['  ]| Mr*Hynes laughed and, shoving himself away from the
012:124,04['  ]| mantelpiece with the aid of his shoulders, made ready to$9$
012:124,05['  ]| leave.
012:124,06[P  ]| ~~ It will$1$ be all right when King Eddie comes, 
012:124,06['  ]| he said. 
012:124,06[P  ]| Well,
012:124,07[P  ]| boys, I am off for$4$ the present. See you later. 'Bye, 'bye.
012:124,08['  ]| He went out of the room slowly. Neither Mr*Henchy
012:124,09['  ]| nor the old man said anything but, just as the door was closing,
012:124,10['  ]| Mr*O'Connor who$6#1$ had been staring moodily into the
012:124,11['  ]| fire, called out suddenly:
012:124,12[O  ]| ~~ 'Bye, Joe.
012:124,13['  ]| Mr*Henchy waited a few moments and then nodded in$4$ the
012:124,14['  ]| direction of the door.
012:124,15[Q  ]| ~~ Tell me, 
012:124,15['  ]| he said across the fire, 
012:124,15[Q  ]| what brings our friend
012:124,16[Q  ]| in$5$ here? What does he want?
012:124,17[O  ]| ~~ 'Usha, poor Joe! 
012:124,17['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, throwing the end
012:124,18['  ]| of his cigarette into the fire, 
012:124,18[O  ]| he is hard up$5$ like$4$ the rest of us.
012:124,19['  ]| Mr*Henchy snuffled vigorously and spat so$5#1$ copiously that$3$
012:124,20['  ]| he nearly put out the fire which$6#1$ uttered a hissing protest.
012:124,21[Q  ]| ~~ To$9$ tell you my private and candid opinion, 
012:124,21['  ]| he said, 
012:124,21[Q  ]| I
012:124,22[Q  ]| think he is a man from the other camp. He is a spy of Colgan's if
012:124,23[Q  ]| you ask me. 
012:124,23@x   | \Just\ \go\ \round\ \and\ \try\ \and\ \find\ \out\ \how\ \they are\
012:124,24@x   | \getting\ \on$5$\. \They\ \will$1$ not\ \suspect\ \you\. 
012:124,24[Q  ]| Do you twig?
012:124,25[O  ]| ~~ Ah, poor Joe is a decent skin, 
012:124,25['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:124,26[Q  ]| ~~ His father was a decent respectable man, 
012:124,26['  ]| Mr*Henchy
012:124,27['  ]| admitted: 
012:124,27[Q  ]| Poor old Larry Hynes! Many a good turn he did
012:124,28[Q  ]| in$4$ his day! But I am greatly afraid our friend is not nineteen
012:124,29[Q  ]| carat. Damn it, I can understand a fellow being hard up$5$ but
012:124,30[Q  ]| what I can not understand is a fellow sponging. Could not he have
012:124,31[Q  ]| some spark of manhood about him?
012:124,32[N  ]| ~~ He does not get a warm welcome from me when he
012:124,33[N  ]| comes, 
012:124,33['  ]| said the old man. 
012:124,33[N  ]| Let him work for$4$ his own side and
012:124,34[N  ]| not come spying around here.
012:125,01[O  ]| ~~ I do not know, 
012:125,01['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor dubiously, as he took
012:125,02['  ]| out cigarette-papers and tobacco. 
012:125,02[O  ]| I think Joe Hynes is
012:125,03[O  ]| a straight man. He is a clever chap, too, with the pen. Do you
012:125,04[O  ]| remember that$6#2$ thing he wrote ~~?
012:125,05[Q  ]| ~~ Some of these hillsiders and fenians are a bit too clever
012:125,06[Q  ]| if you ask me, 
012:125,06['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:125,06[Q  ]| Do you know what my private
012:125,07[Q  ]| and candid opinion is about some of those little jokers?
012:125,08[Q  ]| I believe half of them are in$4$ the pay of the Castle.
012:125,09[N  ]| ~~ There is no$2$ knowing, 
012:125,09['  ]| said the old man.
012:125,10[Q  ]| ~~ O, but I know it for$4$ a fact, 
012:125,10['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:125,10[Q  ]| They are
012:125,11[Q  ]| Castle hacks ~~ I do not say Hynes ~~ No$7$, damn it, I
012:125,12[Q  ]| think he is a stroke above that$6#2$ ~~ But there is a certain little
012:125,13[Q  ]| nobleman with a cock-eye ~~  you know the patriot I am alluding
012:125,14[Q  ]| to$4$?
012:125,15['  ]| Mr*O'Connor nodded.
012:125,16[Q  ]| ~~ There is a lineal descendant of Major Sirr for$4$ you if you
012:125,17[Q  ]| like$1$! O, the heart's blood of a patriot! That$6#2$ is a fellow now
012:125,18[Q  ]| that$3$ would sell his country for$4$ fourpence ~~  ay ~~  and go down on$4$
012:125,19[Q  ]| his bended knees and thank the Almighty Christ he had a
012:125,20[Q  ]| country to$9$ sell.
012:125,21['  ]| There was a knock at the door.
012:125,22[Q  ]| ~~ Come in$5$! 
012:125,22['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:125,23['  ]| A person resembling a poor clergyman or a poor actor appeared
012:125,24['  ]| in$4$ the doorway. His black clothes were tightly buttoned
012:125,25['  ]| on$4$ his short body and it was impossible to$9$ say whether
012:125,26['  ]| he wore a clergyman's collar or a layman's because the collar
012:125,27['  ]| of his shabby frock-coat, the uncovered buttons of which$6#1$ reflected
012:125,28['  ]| the candlelight, was turned up$5$ about his neck. He
012:125,29['  ]| wore a round hat of hard black felt. His face, shining with
012:125,30['  ]| raindrops, had the appearance of damp yellow cheese save
012:125,31['  ]| where two rosy spots indicated the cheekbones. He opened
012:125,32['  ]| his very long mouth suddenly to$9$ express disappointment and
012:125,33['  ]| at the same time opened wide his very bright blue eyes to$9$ express
012:125,34['  ]| pleasure and surprise.
012:126,01[Q  ]| ~~ O, Father*Keon! 
012:126,01['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, jumping up$5$ from his
012:126,02['  ]| chair. 
012:126,02[Q  ]| Is that$6#2$ you? Come in$5$!
012:126,03[R  ]| ~~ O, no$7$, no$7$, no$7$! 
012:126,03['  ]| said Father*Keon quickly, pursing his lips
012:126,04['  ]| as if he were addressing a child.
012:126,05[Q  ]| ~~ Will$1$ not you come in$5$ and sit down?
012:126,06[R  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, no$7$! 
012:126,06['  ]| said Father*Keon, speaking in$4$ a discreet indulgent
012:126,07['  ]| velvety voice. 
012:126,07[R  ]| Do not let me disturb you now! I am just
012:126,08[R  ]| looking for$4$ Mr*Fanning ~~~
012:126,09[Q  ]| ~~ He is round at the \Black\ \Eagle\, 
012:126,09['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:126,09[Q  ]| But
012:126,10[Q  ]| will$1$ not you come in$5$ and sit down a minute?
012:126,11[R  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, thank you. It was just a little business matter, 
012:126,11['  ]| said
012:126,12['  ]| Father*Keon. 
012:126,12[R  ]| Thank you, indeed.
012:126,13['  ]| He retreated from the doorway and Mr*Henchy, seizing one
012:126,14['  ]| of the candlesticks, went to$4$ the door to$9$ light him downstairs.
012:126,15[R  ]| ~~ O, do not trouble, I beg!
012:126,16[Q  ]| ~~ No$7$, but the stairs is so$5#1$ dark.
012:126,17[R  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, I can see ~~~ Thank you, indeed.
012:126,18[Q  ]| ~~ Are you right now?
012:126,19[R  ]| ~~ All right, thanks ~~~ Thanks.
012:126,20['  ]| Mr*Henchy returned with the candlestick and put it on$4$ the
012:126,21['  ]| table. He sat down again at the fire. There was silence for$4$ a
012:126,22['  ]| few moments.
012:126,23[O  ]| ~~ Tell me, John, 
012:126,23['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, lighting his cigarette
012:126,24['  ]| with another pasteboard card.
012:126,25[P  ]| ~~ Hm?
012:126,26[O  ]| ~~ What is he exactly?
012:126,27[P  ]| ~~ Ask me an easier one, 
012:126,27['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:126,28[O  ]| ~~ Fanning and himself seem to$4$ me very thick. They are often
012:126,29[O  ]| in$4$ Kavanagh's together. Is he a priest at all?
012:126,30[Q  ]| ~~ 'Mmmyes, I believe so$5#2$ ~~~ I think he is what you call
012:126,31[Q  ]| a black sheep. We have not many of them, thank God! but we
012:126,32[Q  ]| have a few ~~~ He is an unfortunate man of some kind ~~~
012:126,33[O  ]| ~~ And how does he knock it out? 
012:126,33['  ]| asked Mr*O'Connor.
012:126,34[Q  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is another mystery.
012:127,01[O  ]| ~~ Is he attached to$4$ any chapel or church or institution
012:127,02[O  ]| or ~~ 
012:127,03[Q  ]| ~~ No$7$, 
012:127,03['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:127,03[Q  ]| I think he is travelling on$4$ his own
012:127,04[Q  ]| account ~~~ God forgive me, he added, I thought he was
012:127,05[Q  ]| the dozen of stout.
012:127,06[O  ]| ~~ Is there any chance of a drink itself? 
012:127,06['  ]| asked Mr*O'Connor.
012:127,07[N  ]| ~~ I am dry too, 
012:127,07['  ]| said the old man.
012:127,08[Q  ]| ~~ I asked that$6#2$ little shoeboy three times, 
012:127,08['  ]| said Mr*Henchy,
012:127,09[Q  ]| would he send up$5$ a dozen of stout. I asked him again now but
012:127,10[Q  ]| he was leaning on$4$ the counter in$4$ his shirt-sleeves having a deep
012:127,11[Q  ]| goster with Alderman*Cowley.
012:127,12[O  ]| ~~ Why did not you remind him? 
012:127,12['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:127,13[Q  ]| ~~ Well, I could not go over while he was talking to$4$ Alderman
012:127,14[Q  ]| Cowley. I just waited till I caught his eye, and said:
012:127,15@q   | \About\ \that$6#2$\ \little\ \matter\ \I\ \was\ \speaking\ \to$4$\ \you\ \about\ ~~~
012:127,16@v   | \That$6#2$ will$1$\ \be\ \all\ \right\, \Mr*H\., 
012:127,16[Q  ]| he said. Yerra, sure the little
012:127,17[Q  ]| hop-o'-my-thumb has forgotten all about it.
012:127,18[O  ]| ~~ There is some deal on$5$ in$4$ that$6#2$ quarter, 
012:127,18['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor
012:127,19['  ]| thoughtfully. 
012:127,19[O  ]| I saw the three of them hard at it yesterday at
012:127,20[O  ]| Suffolk*Street corner.
012:127,21[Q  ]| ~~ I think I know the little game they are at, 
012:127,21['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:127,22[Q  ]| You must owe the City Fathers money nowadays if you want
012:127,23[Q  ]| to$9$ be made Lord Mayor. Then they will$1$ make you Lord Mayor.
012:127,24[Q  ]| By$4$ God! I am thinking seriously of becoming a City Father
012:127,25[Q  ]| myself. What do you think? Would I do for$4$ the job?
012:127,26['  ]| Mr*O'Connor laughed.
012:127,27[O  ]| ~~ So$5#1$ far as owing money goes ~~~
012:127,28[Q  ]| ~~ Driving out of the Mansion*House, 
012:127,28['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:127,28[Q  ]| in$4$
012:127,29[Q  ]| all my vermin, with Jack here standing up$5$ behind me in$4$ a
012:127,30[Q  ]| powdered wig ~~  eh?
012:127,31[O  ]| ~~ And make me your private secretary, John.
012:127,32[Q  ]| ~~ Yes. And I will$1$ make Father*Keon my private chaplain.
012:127,33[Q  ]| We will$1$ have a family party.
012:127,34[N  ]| ~~ Faith, Mr*Henchy, 
012:127,34['  ]| said the old man, 
012:127,34[N  ]| you would keep up$5$ better
012:128,01[N  ]| style than some of them. I was talking one day to$4$ old Keegan,
012:128,02[N  ]| the porter. 
012:128,02@n   | \And\ \how\ \do\ \you\ \like$1$\ \your\ \new\ \master\, \Pat?\ 
012:128,02[N  ]| says
012:128,03[N  ]| I to$4$ him. 
012:128,03@n   | \You\ \have not\ \much\ \entertaining\ \now\, 
012:128,03[N  ]| says I. 
012:128,03@v   | \Entertaining!\
012:128,04[N  ]| says he. 
012:128,04@v   | \He would\ \live\ \on$4$\ \the\ \smell\ \of\ \an\ \oil-rag\. 
012:128,04[N  ]| And do you
012:128,05[N  ]| know what he told me? Now, I declare to$4$ God, I did not believe
012:128,06[N  ]| him.
012:128,07[Y  ]| ~~ What? 
012:128,07['  ]| said Mr*Henchy and Mr*O'Connor.
012:128,08[N  ]| ~~ He told me: 
012:128,08@v   | \What\ \do\ \you\ \think\ \of\ \a\ \Lord\ \Mayor\ \of\ \Dublin\
012:128,09@v   | \sending\ \out\ \for$4$\ \a\ \pound\ \of\ \chops\ \for$4$\ \his\ \dinner?\ \How is\ \that$6#2$\
012:128,10@v   | \for$4$\ \high\ \living\? 
012:128,10[N  ]| says he. 
012:128,10@n   | \Wisha\! \wisha\, 
012:128,10[N  ]| says I. 
012:128,10@v   | \A\ \pound\ \of\
012:128,11@v   | \chops\, 
012:128,11[N  ]| says he, 
012:128,11@v   | \coming\ \into\ \the\ \Mansion*House\. 
012:128,11@n   | \Wisha\! 
012:128,11[N  ]| says
012:128,12[N  ]| I, 
012:128,12@n   | \what\ \kind\ \of\ \people\ \is\ \going\ \at\ \all\ \now\?
012:128,13['  ]| At this point there was a knock at the door, and a boy put in$5$
012:128,14['  ]| his head.
012:128,15[N  ]| ~~ What is it? 
012:128,15['  ]| said the old man.
012:128,16[W  ]| ~~ From the \Black*Eagle\, 
012:128,16['  ]| said the boy, walking in$5$ sideways
012:128,17['  ]| and depositing a basket on$4$ the floor with a noise of shaken
012:128,18['  ]| bottles.
012:128,19['  ]| The old man helped the boy to$9$ transfer the bottles from
012:128,20['  ]| the basket to$4$ the table and counted the full tally. After the
012:128,21['  ]| transfer the boy put his basket on$4$ his arm and asked:
012:128,22[W  ]| ~~ Any bottles?
012:128,23[N  ]| ~~ What bottles? 
012:128,23['  ]| said the old man.
012:128,24[Q  ]| ~~ Will$1$ not you let us drink them first? 
012:128,24['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:128,25[W  ]| ~~ I was told to$9$ ask for$4$ bottles.
012:128,26[N  ]| ~~ Come back to-morrow, 
012:128,26['  ]| said the old man.
012:128,27[Q  ]| ~~ Here, boy! 
012:128,27['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:128,27[Q  ]| will$1$ you run over to$4$ O'Farrell's
012:128,28[Q  ]| and ask him to$9$ lend us a corkscrew ~~  for$4$ Mr*Henchy,
012:128,29[Q  ]| say. Tell him we will$1$ not keep it a minute. Leave the basket
012:128,30[Q  ]| there.
012:128,31['  ]| The boy went out and Mr*Henchy began to$9$ rub his hands
012:128,32['  ]| cheerfully, saying:
012:128,33[Q  ]| ~~ Ah, well, he is not so$5#1$ bad after all. He is as good as his word,
012:128,34[Q  ]| anyhow.
012:129,01[N  ]| ~~ There is no$2$ tumblers, 
012:129,01['  ]| said the old man.
012:129,02[Q  ]| ~~ O, do not let that$6#2$ trouble you, Jack, 
012:129,02['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:129,03[Q  ]| Many is the good man before now drank out of the bottle.
012:129,04[O  ]| ~~ Anyway, it is better than nothing, 
012:129,04['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:129,05[Q  ]| ~~ He is not a bad sort, 
012:129,05['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:129,05[Q  ]| only Fanning has
012:129,06[Q  ]| such a loan of him. He means well, you know, in$4$ his own tinpot
012:129,07[Q  ]| way.
012:129,08['  ]| The boy came back with the corkscrew. The old man
012:129,09['  ]| opened three bottles and was handing back the corkscrew
012:129,10['  ]| when Mr*Henchy said to$4$ the boy:
012:129,11[Q  ]| ~~ Would you like$1$ a drink, boy?
012:129,12[V  ]| ~~ If you please, sir, 
012:129,12['  ]| said the boy.
012:129,13['  ]| The old man opened another bottle grudgingly, and handed
012:129,14['  ]| it to$4$ the boy.
012:129,15[N  ]| ~~ What age are you? 
012:129,15['  ]| he asked.
012:129,16[V  ]| ~~ Seventeen, 
012:129,16['  ]| said the boy.
012:129,17['  ]| As the old man said nothing further the boy took the bottle,
012:129,18['  ]| said: 
012:129,18[V  ]| \Here is\ \my\ \best\ \respects\, \sir\ 
012:129,18['  ]| to$4$ Mr*Henchy, drank the
012:129,19['  ]| contents, put the bottle back on$4$ the table and wiped his
012:129,20['  ]| mouth with his sleeve. Then he took up$5$ the corkscrew and
012:129,21['  ]| went out of the door sideways, muttering some form of salutation.
012:129,22[N  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is the way it begins, 
012:129,22['  ]| said the old man.
012:129,23[Q  ]| ~~ The thin end of the wedge, 
012:129,23['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:129,24['  ]| The old man distributed the three bottles which$6#1$ he had
012:129,25['  ]| opened and the men drank from them simultaneously. After
012:129,26['  ]| having drunk each placed his bottle on$4$ the mantelpiece
012:129,27['  ]| within hand's reach and drew in$5$ a long breath of satisfaction.
012:129,28[Q  ]| ~~ Well, I did a good day's work to-day, 
012:129,28['  ]| said Mr*Henchy,
012:129,29['  ]| after a pause.
012:129,30[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ so$5#2$, John?
012:129,31[Q  ]| ~~ Yes. I got him one or two sure things in$4$ Dawson*Street,
012:129,32[Q  ]| Crofton and myself. Between ourselves, you know, Crofton
012:129,33[Q  ]| (he is a decent chap, of course), but he is not worth a damn as
012:130,01[Q  ]| a canvasser. He has not a word to$9$ throw to$4$ a dog. He stands
012:130,02[Q  ]| and looks at the people while I do the talking.
012:130,03['  ]| Here two men entered the room. One of them was a very
012:130,04['  ]| fat man, whose blue serge clothes seemed to$9$ be in$4$ danger of
012:130,05['  ]| falling from his sloping figure. He had a big face which$6#1$ resembled
012:130,06['  ]| a young ox's face in$4$ expression, staring blue eyes and
012:130,07['  ]| a grizzled moustache. The other man, who$6#1$ was much younger
012:130,08['  ]| and frailer, had a thin clean-shaven face. He wore a very high
012:130,09['  ]| double collar and a wide-brimmed bowler hat.
012:130,10[Q  ]| ~~ Hello, Crofton! 
012:130,10['  ]| said Mr*Henchy to$4$ the fat man. 
012:130,10[Q  ]| Talk
012:130,11[Q  ]| of the devil ~~~
012:130,12[S  ]| ~~ Where did the boose come from? 
012:130,12['  ]| asked the young man.
012:130,13[S  ]| Did the cow calve?
012:130,14[O  ]| ~~ O, of course, Lyons spots the drink first thing! 
012:130,14['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, 
012:130,15['  ]| laughing.
012:130,16[S  ]| ~~ Is that$6#2$ the way you chaps canvass, 
012:130,16['  ]| said Mr*Lyons, 
012:130,16[S  ]| and
012:130,17[S  ]| Crofton and I out in$4$ the cold and rain looking for$4$ votes?
012:130,18[Q  ]| ~~ Why, blast your soul, 
012:130,18['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:130,18[Q  ]| I would get more votes
012:130,19[Q  ]| in$4$ five minutes than you two would get in$4$ a week.
012:130,20[O  ]| ~~ Open two bottles of stout, Jack, 
012:130,20['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:130,21[N  ]| ~~ How can I? 
012:130,21['  ]| said the old man, 
012:130,21[N  ]| when there is no$2$ corkscrew?
012:130,22[Q  ]| ~~ Wait now, wait now! 
012:130,22['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, getting up$5$
012:130,23['  ]| quickly. 
012:130,23[Q  ]| Did you ever see this little trick?
012:130,24['  ]| He took two bottles from the table and, carrying them to$4$
012:130,25['  ]| the fire, put them on$4$ the hob. Then he sat down again by$4$
012:130,26['  ]| the fire and took another drink from his bottle. Mr*Lyons sat
012:130,27['  ]| on$4$ the edge of the table, pushed his hat towards the nape of
012:130,28['  ]| his neck and began to$9$ swing his legs.
012:130,29[S  ]| ~~ Which$6#1$ is my bottle? 
012:130,29['  ]| he asked.
012:130,30[Q  ]| ~~ This lad, 
012:130,30['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:130,31['  ]| Mr*Crofton sat down on$4$ a box and looked fixedly at the
012:130,32['  ]| other bottle on$4$ the hob. He was silent for$4$ two reasons. The
012:131,01['  ]| first reason, sufficient in$4$ itself, was that$3$ he had nothing to$9$
012:131,02['  ]| say; the second reason was that$3$ he considered his companions
012:131,03['  ]| beneath him. He had been a canvasser for$4$ Wilkins, the Conservative,
012:131,04['  ]| but when the Conservatives had withdrawn their
012:131,05['  ]| man and, choosing the lesser of two evils, given their support
012:131,06['  ]| to$4$ the Nationalist candidate, he had been engaged to$9$ work
012:131,07['  ]| for$4$ Mr*Tierney.
012:131,08['  ]| In$4$ a few minutes an apologetic \Pok\! was heard as the cork
012:131,09['  ]| flew out of Mr*Lyons's bottle. Mr*Lyons jumped off the table,
012:131,10['  ]| went to$4$ the fire, took his bottle and carried it back to$4$ the
012:131,11['  ]| table.
012:131,12[Q  ]| ~~ I was just telling them, Crofton, 
012:131,12['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:131,12[Q  ]| that$3$
012:131,13[Q  ]| we got a good few votes to-day.
012:131,14[S  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ did you get? 
012:131,14['  ]| asked Mr*Lyons.
012:131,15[Q  ]| ~~ Well, I got Parkes for$4$ one, and I got Atkinson for$4$ two,
012:131,16[Q  ]| and I got Ward of Dawson*Street. Fine old chap he is, too ~~ 
012:131,17[Q  ]| regular old toff, old Conservative! 
012:131,17@v   | \But\ \is not\ \your\ \candidate\ \a\
012:131,18@v   | \Nationalist\? 
012:131,18[Q  ]| said he. 
012:131,18@q   | \He is\ \a\ \respectable\ \man\, 
012:131,18[Q  ]| said I. 
012:131,18@q   | \He is\ \in$4$\
012:131,19@q   | \favour\ \of\ \whatever\ \will$1$\ \benefit\ \this\ \country\. \He is\ \a\ \big\ \\ate-payer\,
012:131,20[Q  ]| I said. 
012:131,20@q   | \He\ \has\ \extensive\ \house\ \property\ \in$4$\ \the\ \city\ \and\
012:131,21@q   | \three\ \places\ \of\ \business\ \and\ \is not\ \it\ \to$4$\ \his\ \own\ \advantage\ \to$9$\ \keep\
012:131,22@q   | \down\ \the\ \rates\? \He is\ \a\ \prominent\ \and\ \respected\ \citizen\, 
012:131,22[Q  ]| said 
012:131,23[Q  ]| I, 
012:131,23@q   | \and\ \a\ \Poor\ \Law\ \Guardian\, \he\ \does not\ \belong\ \to$4$\ \any\ \party\,
012:131,24@q   | \good\, \bad\, \or\ \indifferent\. 
012:131,24[Q  ]| That$6#2$ is the way to$9$ talk to$4$ them.
012:131,25[S  ]| ~~ And what about the address to$4$ the King? 
012:131,25['  ]| said Mr*Lyons,
012:131,26['  ]| after drinking and smacking his lips.
012:131,27[Q  ]| ~~ Listen to$4$ me, 
012:131,27['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:131,27[Q  ]| What we want in$4$ this country,
012:131,28[Q  ]| as I said to$4$ old Ward, is capital. The King's coming here
012:131,29[Q  ]| will$1$ mean an influx of money into this country. The citizens
012:131,30[Q  ]| of Dublin will$1$ benefit by$4$ it. Look at all the factories down by$4$
012:131,31[Q  ]| the quays there, idle! Look at all the money there is in$4$ the
012:131,32[Q  ]| country if we only worked the old industries, the mills, the
012:131,33[Q  ]| shipbuilding yards and factories. It is capital we want.
012:132,01[O  ]| ~~ But look here, John, 
012:132,01['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor. 
012:132,01[O  ]| Why should we
012:132,02[O  ]| welcome the King of England? Did not Parnell himself ~~~
012:132,03[Q  ]| ~~ Parnell, 
012:132,03['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:132,03[Q  ]| is dead. Now, here is the way
012:132,04[Q  ]| I look at it. Here is this chap come to$4$ the throne after his
012:132,05[Q  ]| old mother keeping him out of it till the man was grey. He is
012:132,06[Q  ]| a man of the world, and he means well by$4$ us. He is a jolly fine
012:132,07[Q  ]| decent fellow, if you ask me, and no$2$ damn nonsense about
012:132,08[Q  ]| him. He just says to$4$ himself: 
012:132,08@v   | \The\ \old\ \one\ \never\ \went\ \to$9$\ \see\
012:132,09@v   | \these\ \wild\ \Irish\. \By$4$\ \Christ\, \I will$1$\ \go\ \myself\ \and\ \see\ \what\ \they are\
012:132,10@v   | \like$4$\. 
012:132,10[Q  ]| And are we going to$9$ insult the man when he comes over
012:132,11[Q  ]| here on$4$ a friendly visit? Eh? Is not that$6#2$ right, Crofton?
012:132,12['  ]| Mr*Crofton nodded his head.
012:132,13[S  ]| ~~ But after all now, 
012:132,13['  ]| said Mr*Lyons argumentatively, 
012:132,13[S  ]| King
012:132,14[S  ]| Edward's life, you know, is not the very ~~~
012:132,15[Q  ]| ~~ Let bygones be bygones, 
012:132,15['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:132,15[Q  ]| I admire
012:132,16[Q  ]| the man personally. He is just an ordinary knockabout like$4$ you
012:132,17[Q  ]| and me. He is fond of his glass of grog and he is a bit of a rake,
012:132,18[Q  ]| perhaps, and he is a good sportsman. Damn it, can not we Irish
012:132,19[Q  ]| play fair?
012:132,20[S  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is all very fine, 
012:132,20['  ]| said Mr*Lyons. 
012:132,20[S  ]| But look at the case of
012:132,21[S  ]| Parnell now.
012:132,22[Q  ]| ~~ In$4$ the name of God, 
012:132,22['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:132,22[Q  ]| where is the analogy
012:132,23[Q  ]| between the two cases?
012:132,24[S  ]| ~~ What I mean, 
012:132,24['  ]| said Mr*Lyons, 
012:132,24[S  ]| is we have our ideals. Why,
012:132,25[S  ]| now, would we welcome a man like$4$ that$6#2$? Do you think now
012:132,26[S  ]| after what he did Parnell was a fit man to$9$ lead us? And why,
012:132,27[S  ]| then, would we do it for$4$ Edward the Seventh?
012:132,28[O  ]| ~~ This is Parnell's anniversary, 
012:132,28['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, 
012:132,28[O  ]| and
012:132,29[O  ]| do not let us stir up$5$ any bad blood. We all respect him now
012:132,30[O  ]| that$3$ he is dead and gone ~~  even the Conservatives, 
012:132,30['  ]| he added,
012:132,31['  ]| turning to$4$ Mr*Crofton.
012:132,32['  ]| \Pok\! The tardy cork flew out of Mr*Crofton's bottle. Mr*Crofton 
012:132,33['  ]| got up$5$ from his box and went to$4$ the fire. As he returned
012:132,34['  ]| with his capture he said in$4$ a deep voice:
012:133,01[T  ]| ~~ Our side of the house respects him because he was a gentleman.
012:133,02[Q  ]| ~~ Right you are, Crofton! 
012:133,02['  ]| said Mr*Henchy fiercely. 
012:133,02[Q  ]| He was
012:133,03[Q  ]| the only man that$6#1$ could keep that$6#2$ bag of cats in$4$ order. 
012:133,03@v   | \Down\,
012:133,04@v   | \ye\ \dogs\! \Lie\ \down\, \ye\ \curs\! 
012:133,04[Q  ]| That$6#2$ is the way he treated them.
012:133,05[Q  ]| Come in$5$, Joe! Come in$5$! 
012:133,05['  ]| he called out, catching sight of Mr*Hynes 
012:133,06['  ]| in$4$ the doorway.
012:133,07['  ]| Mr*Hynes came in$5$ slowly.
012:133,08[Q  ]| ~~ Open another bottle of stout, Jack, 
012:133,08['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:133,08[Q  ]| O,
012:133,09[Q  ]| I forgot there is no$2$ corkscrew! Here, show me one here and
012:133,10[Q  ]| I will$1$ put it at the fire.
012:133,11['  ]| The old man handed him another bottle and he placed it on$4$
012:133,12['  ]| the hob.
012:133,13[O  ]| ~~ Sit down, Joe, 
012:133,13['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, 
012:133,13[O  ]| we are just talking about
012:133,14[O  ]| the Chief.
012:133,15[Q  ]| ~~ Ay, ay! 
012:133,15['  ]| said Mr*Henchy.
012:133,16['  ]| Mr*Hynes sat on$4$ the side of the table near Mr*Lyons but said
012:133,17['  ]| nothing.
012:133,18[Q  ]| ~~ There is one of them, anyhow, 
012:133,18['  ]| said Mr*Henchy, 
012:133,18[Q  ]| that$6#2$
012:133,19[Q  ]| did not renege him. By$4$ God, I will$1$ say for$4$ you, Joe! No$7$, by$4$ God,
012:133,20[Q  ]| you stuck to$4$ him like$4$ a man!
012:133,21[O  ]| ~~ O, Joe, 
012:133,21['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor suddenly. 
012:133,21[O  ]| Give us that$6#2$ thing
012:133,22[O  ]| you wrote ~~  do you remember? Have you got it on$4$ you?
012:133,23[Q  ]| ~~ O, ay! 
012:133,23['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:133,23[Q  ]| Give us that$6#2$. Did you ever hear
012:133,24[Q  ]| that$6#2$, Crofton? Listen to$4$ this now: splendid thing.
012:133,25[O  ]| ~~ Go on$5$, 
012:133,25['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor. 
012:133,25[O  ]| Fire away, Joe.
012:133,26['  ]| Mr*Hynes did not seem to$9$ remember at once the piece to$4$
012:133,27['  ]| which$6#1$ they were alluding but, after reflecting a while, he
012:133,28['  ]| said:
012:133,29[P  ]| ~~ O, that$6#2$ thing is it ~~~ Sure, that$6#2$ is old now.
012:133,30[O  ]| ~~ Out with it, man! 
012:133,30['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor.
012:133,31[Q  ]| ~~ 'Sh, 'sh, 
012:133,31['  ]| said Mr*Henchy. 
012:133,31[Q  ]| Now, Joe!
012:133,32['  ]| Mr*Hynes hesitated a little longer. Then amid the silence
012:133,33['  ]| he took off his hat, laid it on$4$ the table and stood up$5$. He
012:134,01['  ]| seemed to$9$ be rehearsing the piece in$4$ his mind. After a rather
012:134,02['  ]| long pause he announced:
012:134,03[Z  ]| THE DEATH OF PARNELL
012:134,04[Z  ]| \6th\ \October\ \1891\
012:134,05['  ]| He cleared his throat once or twice and then began to$9$ recite:
012:134,06[Z  ]| \He is dead. Our Uncrowned King is dead\.
012:134,07[Z  ]| \O, Erin, mourn with grief and woe\
012:134,08[Z  ]| \For$3$ he lies dead whom the fell gang\
012:134,09[Z  ]| \Of modern hypocrites laid low\.
012:134,10[Z  ]| \He lies slain by$4$ the coward hounds\
012:134,11[Z  ]| \He raised to$4$ glory from the mire\;
012:134,12[Z  ]| \And Erin's hopes and Erin's dreams\
012:134,13[Z  ]| \Perish upon$4$ her monarch's pyre\.
012:134,14[Z  ]| \In$4$ palace, cabin or in$4$ cot\
012:134,15[Z  ]| \The Irish heart where'er it be\
012:134,16[Z  ]| \Is bowed with woe ~~  for$3$ he is gone\
012:134,17[Z  ]| \Who$6#1$ would have wrought her destiny\.
012:134,18[Z  ]| \He would have had his Erin famed\,
012:134,19[Z  ]| \The green flag gloriously unfurled\,
012:134,20[Z  ]| \Her statesmen, bards and warriors raised\
012:134,21[Z  ]| \Before the nations of the World\.
012:134,22[Z  ]| \He dreamed (alas, It was but a dream\!)
012:134,23[Z  ]| \Of Liberty: but as he strove\
012:134,24[Z  ]| \To$9$ clutch that$6#2$ idol, treachery\
012:134,25[Z  ]| \Sundered him from the thing he loved\.
012:134,26[Z  ]| \Shame on$4$ the coward caitiff hands\
012:134,27[Z  ]| \That$6#1$ smote their Lord or with a kiss\
012:134,28[Z  ]| \Betrayed him to$4$ the rabble-rout\
012:134,29[Z  ]| \Of fawning priests ~~  no$2$ friends of his\.
012:135,01[Z  ]| \May everlasting shame consume\
012:135,02[Z  ]| \The memory of those who$6#1$ tried\
012:135,03[Z  ]| \To$9$ befoul and smear the exalted name\
012:135,04[Z  ]| \Of one who$6#1$ spurned them in$4$ his pride\.
012:135,05[Z  ]| \He fell as fall the mighty ones\,
012:135,06[Z  ]| \Nobly undaunted to$4$ the last\,
012:135,07[Z  ]| \And death has now united him\
012:135,08[Z  ]| \With Erin's heroes of the past\.
012:135,09[Z  ]| \No$2$ sound of strife disturb his sleep\!
012:135,10[Z  ]| \Calmly he rests: no$2$ human pain\
012:135,11[Z  ]| \Or high ambition spurs him now\
012:135,12[Z  ]| \The peaks of glory to$9$ attain\.
012:135,13[Z  ]| \They had their way: they laid him low\.
012:135,14[Z  ]| \But Erin, list, his spirit may\
012:135,15[Z  ]| \Rise, like$4$ the Phoenix from the flames\,
012:135,16[Z  ]| \When breaks the dawning of the day\,
012:135,17[Z  ]| \The day that$6#1$ brings us Freedon's reign\.
012:135,18[Z  ]| \And on$4$ that$6#2$ day may Erin well\
012:135,19[Z  ]| \Pledge in$4$ the cup she lifts to$4$ Joy.\
012:135,20[Z  ]| \One grief ~~  the memory of Parnell\.
012:135,21['  ]| Mr*Hynes sat down again on$4$ the table. When he had finished
012:135,22['  ]| his recitation there was a silence and then a burst of
012:135,23['  ]| clapping: even Mr*Lyons clapped. The applause continued
012:135,24['  ]| for$4$ a little time. When it had ceased all the auditors drank from
012:135,25['  ]| their bottles in$4$ silence.
012:135,26['  ]| \Pok\! The cork flew out of Mr*Hynes' bottle, but Mr*Hynes
012:135,27['  ]| remained sitting, flushed and bareheaded on$4$ the table. He did
012:135,28['  ]| not seem to$9$ have heard the invitation.
012:135,29[O  ]| ~~ Good man, Joe! 
012:135,29['  ]| said Mr*O'Connor, taking out his cigarette
012:135,30['  ]| papers and pouch the better to$9$ hide his emotion.
012:135,31[Q  ]| ~~ What do you think of that$6#2$, Crofton? 
012:135,31['  ]| cried Mr*Henchy.
012:135,32[Q  ]| Is not that$6#2$ fine? What?
012:135,33['  ]| Mr*Crofton said 
012:135,33@t   | that$3$ it was a very fine piece of writing.
013:136,00@@@@@|
013:136,01['  ]| <A MOTHER>
013:136,02['  ]| Mr*Holohan, assistant secretary of the \Eire*Abu*Society\,
013:136,03['  ]| had been walking up$4$ and down Dublin for$4$ nearly a month, with
013:136,04['  ]| his hands and pockets full of dirty pieces of paper, arranging
013:136,05['  ]| about the series of concerts. He had a game leg and for$4$
013:136,06['  ]| this his friends called him Hoppy*Holohan. He walked up$5$
013:136,07['  ]| and down constantly, stood by$4$ the hour at street corners arguing
013:136,08['  ]| the point and made notes; but in$4$ the end it was Mrs*Kearney 
013:136,09['  ]| who$6#1$ arranged everything.
013:136,10['  ]| Miss*Devlin had become Mrs*Kearney out of spite. She had
013:136,11['  ]| been educated in$4$ a high-class convent where she had learned
013:136,12['  ]| French and music. As she was naturally pale and unbending
013:136,13['  ]| in$4$ manner she made few friends at school. When she came
013:136,14['  ]| to$4$ the age of marriage she was sent out to$4$ many houses where
013:136,15['  ]| her playing and ivory manners were much admired. She sat
013:136,16['  ]| amid the chilly circle of her accomplishments, waiting for$4$
013:136,18['  ]| young men whom she met were ordinary and she gave them
013:136,19['  ]| no$2$ encouragement, trying to$9$ console her romantic desires by$4$
013:137,01['  ]| eating a great deal of Turkish Delight in$4$ secret. However,
013:137,02['  ]| when she drew near the limit and her friends began to$9$ loosen
013:137,03['  ]| their tongues about her she silenced them by$4$ marrying Mr*Kearney, 
013:137,04['  ]| who$6#1$ was a bootmaker on$4$ Ormond*Quay.
013:137,05['  ]| He was much older than she. His conversation, which$6#1$ was
013:137,06['  ]| serious, took place at intervals in$4$ his great brown beard. After
013:137,07['  ]| the first year of married life Mrs*Kearney perceived that$3$ such a
013:137,08['  ]| man would wear better than a romantic person but she never
013:137,09['  ]| put her own romantic ideas away. He was sober, thrifty and
013:137,10['  ]| pious; he went to$4$ the altar every first Friday, sometimes with
013:137,11['  ]| her, oftener by$4$ himself. But she never weakened in$4$ her religion
013:137,12['  ]| and was a good wife to$4$ him. At some party in$4$ a strange house
013:137,13['  ]| when she lifted her eyebrow ever so$5#1$ slightly he stood up$5$ to$9$
013:137,14['  ]| take his leave and, when his cough troubled him, she put the
013:137,15['  ]| eider-down quilt over his feet and made a strong rum punch.
013:137,16['  ]| For$4$ his part he was a model father. By$4$ paying a small sum
013:137,17['  ]| every week into a society he ensured for$4$ both his daughters a
013:137,18['  ]| dowry of one hundred pounds each when they came to$4$ the
013:137,19['  ]| age of twenty-four. He sent the elder daughter, Kathleen, to$4$ a
013:137,20['  ]| good convent, where she learned French and music and afterwards
013:137,21['  ]| paid her fees at the Academy. Every year in$4$ the month
013:137,22['  ]| of July Mrs*Kearney found occasion to$9$ say to$4$ some friend:
013:137,23[E  ]| ~~ My good man is packing us off to$4$ Skerries for$4$ a few weeks.
013:137,24['  ]| If it was not Skerries it was Howth or Greystones.
013:137,25['  ]| When the Irish Revival began to$9$ be appreciable Mrs*Kearney
013:137,26['  ]| determined to$9$ take advantage of her daughter's name and
013:137,27['  ]| brought an Irish teacher to$4$ the house. Kathleen and her sister
013:137,28['  ]| sent Irish picture postcards to$4$ their friends and these
013:137,29['  ]| friends sent back other Irish picture postcards. On$4$ special
013:137,30['  ]| Sundays when Mr*Kearney went with his family to$4$ the pro-cathedral
013:137,31['  ]| a little crowd of people would assemble after mass
013:137,32['  ]| at the corner of Cathedral*Street. They were all friends of the
013:137,33['  ]| Kearneys ~~ musical friends or Nationalist friends; and, when
013:137,34['  ]| they had played every little counter of gossip, they shook
013:138,01['  ]| hands with one another all together, laughing at the crossing
013:138,02['  ]| of so$5#1$ many hands and said good-bye to$4$ one another in$4$ Irish.
013:138,03['  ]| Soon the name of Miss*Kathleen*Kearney began to$9$ be heard
013:138,04['  ]| often on$4$ people's lips. People said that$3$ she was very clever at
013:138,05['  ]| music and a very nice girl and, moreover, that$3$ she was a believer
013:138,06['  ]| in$4$ the language movement. Mrs*Kearney was well content
013:138,07['  ]| at this. Therefore she was not surprised when one day
013:138,08['  ]| Mr*Holohan came to$4$ her and proposed that$3$ her daughter
013:138,09['  ]| should be the accompanist at a series of four grand concerts
013:138,10['  ]| which$6#1$ his Society was going to$9$ give in$4$ the Antient Concert
013:138,11['  ]| Rooms. She brought him into the drawing-room, made him
013:138,12['  ]| sit down and brought out the decanter and the silver biscuit-barrel.
013:138,13['  ]| She entered heart and soul into the details of the enterprise,
013:138,14['  ]| advised and dissuaded; and finally a contract was drawn
013:138,15['  ]| up$5$ by$4$ which$6#1$ Kathleen was to$9$ receive eight guineas for$4$ her
013:138,16['  ]| services as accompanist at the four grand concerts.
013:138,17['  ]| As Mr*Holohan was a novice in$4$ such delicate matters as the
013:138,18['  ]| wording of bills and the disposing of items for$4$ a programme
013:138,19['  ]| Mrs*Kearney helped him. She had tact. She knew what \artistes\
013:138,20['  ]| should go into capitals and what \artistes\ should go into
013:138,21['  ]| small type. She knew that$3$ the first tenor would not like$1$ to$9$
013:138,22['  ]| come on$5$ after Mr*Meade's comic turn. To$9$ keep the audience
013:138,23['  ]| continually diverted she slipped the doubtful items in$4$ between
013:138,24['  ]| the old favourites. Mr*Holohan called to$9$ see her every day to$9$
013:138,25['  ]| have her advice on$4$ some point. She was invariably friendly
013:138,26['  ]| and advising ~~ homely, in$4$ fact. She pushed the decanter towards
013:138,27['  ]| him, saying:
013:138,28[E  ]| ~~ Now, help yourself, Mr*Holohan!
013:138,29['  ]| And while he was helping himself she said:
013:138,30[E  ]| ~~ Do not be afraid! Do not be afraid of it!
013:138,31['  ]| Everything went on$5$ smoothly. Mrs*Kearney bought some
013:138,32['  ]| lovely blush-pink charmeuse in$4$ Brown Thomas's to$9$ let into
013:138,33['  ]| the front of Kathleen's dress. It cost a pretty penny; but there
013:138,34['  ]| are occasions when a little expense is justifiable. She took a
013:139,01['  ]| dozen of two-shilling tickets for$4$ the final concert and sent
013:139,02['  ]| them to$4$ those friends who$6#1$ could not be trusted to$9$ come otherwise.
013:139,03['  ]| She forgot nothing and, thanks to$4$ her, everything that$6#1$
013:139,04['  ]| was to$9$ be done was done.
013:139,05['  ]| The concerts were to$9$ be on$4$ Wednesday, Thursday, Friday
013:139,06['  ]| and Saturday. When Mrs*Kearney arrived with her daughter
013:139,07['  ]| at the Antient Concert Rooms on$4$ Wednesday night she did
013:139,08['  ]| not like$1$ the look of things. A few young men, wearing bright
013:139,09['  ]| blue badges in$4$ their coats, stood idle in$4$ the vestibule; none of
013:139,10['  ]| them wore evening dress. She passed by$5$ with her daughter and
013:139,11['  ]| a quick glance through the open door of the hall showed her
013:139,12['  ]| the cause of the stewards' idleness. At first she wondered had
013:139,13['  ]| she mistaken the hour. No$7$, it was twenty minutes to$4$ eight.
013:139,14['  ]| In$4$ the dressing-room behind the stage she was introduced
013:139,15['  ]| to$4$ the secretary of the Society, Mr*Fitzpatrick. She smiled
013:139,16['  ]| and shook his hand. He was a little man with a white vacant
013:139,17['  ]| face. She noticed that$3$ he wore his soft brown hat carelessly
013:139,18['  ]| on$4$ the side of his head and that$3$ his accent was flat. He held a
013:139,19['  ]| programme in$4$ his hand and, while he was talking to$4$ her, he
013:139,20['  ]| chewed one end of it into a moist pulp. He seemed to$9$ bear
013:139,21['  ]| disappointments lightly. Mr*Holohan came into the dressing-room
013:139,22['  ]| every few minutes with reports from the box-office.
013:139,23['  ]| The \artistes\ talked among themselves nervously, glanced
013:139,24['  ]| from time to$4$ time at the mirror and rolled and unrolled their
013:139,25['  ]| music. When it was nearly half-past eight the few people in$4$
013:139,26['  ]| the hall began to$9$ express their desire to$9$ be entertained. Mr*Fitzpatrick 
013:139,27['  ]| came in$5$, smiled vacantly at the room, and said:
013:139,28[F  ]| ~~ Well now, ladies and gentlemen, I suppose we had better
013:139,29[F  ]| open the ball.
013:139,30['  ]| Mrs*Kearney rewarded his very flat final syllable with a
013:139,31['  ]| quick stare of contempt and then said to$4$ her daughter encouragingly:
013:139,32[E  ]| ~~ Are you ready, dear?
013:139,33['  ]| When she had an opportunity she called Mr*Holohan aside
013:140,01['  ]| and asked him to$9$ tell her what it meant. Mr*Holohan did not
013:140,02['  ]| know what it meant. He said that$3$ the Committee had made a
013:140,03['  ]| mistake in$4$ arranging for$4$ four concerts: four was too many.
013:140,04[E  ]| ~~ And the \artistes\! 
013:140,04['  ]| said Mrs*Kearney. 
013:140,04[E  ]| Of course they are
013:140,05[E  ]| doing their best, but really they are no$2$ good.
013:140,06['  ]| Mr*Holohan admitted that$3$ the \artistes\ were no$2$ good but the
013:140,07['  ]| Committee, he said, had decided to$9$ let the first three concerts
013:140,08['  ]| go as they pleased and reserve all the talent for$4$ Saturday
013:140,09['  ]| night. Mrs*Kearney said nothing but, as the mediocre items
013:140,10['  ]| followed one another on$4$ the platform and the few people in$4$
013:140,11['  ]| the hall grew fewer and fewer, she began to$9$ regret that$3$ she
013:140,12['  ]| had put herself to$4$ any expense for$4$ such a concert. There was
013:140,13['  ]| something she did not like$1$ in$4$ the look of things and Mr*Fitzpatrick's
013:140,14['  ]| vacant smile irritated her very much. However,
013:140,15['  ]| she said nothing and waited to$9$ see how it would end. The concert
013:140,16['  ]| expired shortly before ten and everyone went home
013:140,17['  ]| quickly.
013:140,18['  ]| The concert on$4$ Thursday night was better attended but
013:140,19['  ]| Mrs*Kearney saw at once that$3$ the house was filled with paper.
013:140,20['  ]| The audience behaved indecorously as if the concert were an
013:140,21['  ]| informal dress rehearsal. Mr*Fitzpatrick seemed to$9$ enjoy himself;
013:140,22['  ]| he was quite unconscious that$3$ Mrs*Kearney was taking
013:140,23['  ]| angry note of his conduct. He stood at the edge of the screen,
013:140,24['  ]| from time to$4$ time jutting out his head and exchanging a laugh
013:140,25['  ]| with two friends in$4$ the corner of the balcony. In$4$ the course
013:140,26['  ]| of the evening Mrs*Kearney learned that$3$ the Friday concert
013:140,27['  ]| was to$9$ be abandoned and that$3$ the Committee was going to$9$
013:140,28['  ]| move heaven and earth to$9$ secure a bumper house on$4$ Saturday
013:140,29['  ]| night. When she heard this she sought out Mr*Holohan. She
013:140,30['  ]| buttonholed him as he was limping out quickly with a glass of
013:140,31['  ]| lemonade for$4$ a young lady and asked him was it true. Yes, it
013:140,32['  ]| was true.
013:140,33[E  ]| ~~ But, of course, that$6#2$ does not alter the contract, 
013:140,33['  ]| she said.
013:140,34[E  ]| The contract was for$4$ four concerts.
013:141,01['  ]| Mr*Holohan seemed to$9$ be in$4$ a hurry; he advised her to$9$
013:141,02['  ]| speak to$4$ Mr*Fitzpatrick. Mrs*Kearney was now beginning to$9$
013:141,03['  ]| be alarmed. She called Mr*Fitzpatrick away from his screen
013:141,04['  ]| and told him that$3$ her daughter had signed for$4$ four concerts
013:141,05['  ]| and that$3$, of course, according to$4$ the terms of the contract,
013:141,06['  ]| she should receive the sum originally stipulated for$5$ whether
013:141,07['  ]| the society gave the four concerts or not. Mr*Fitzpatrick, who$6#1$
013:141,08['  ]| did not catch the point at issue very quickly, seemed unable to$9$
013:141,09['  ]| resolve the difficulty and said that$3$ he would bring the matter
013:141,10['  ]| before the Committee. Mrs*Kearney's anger began to$9$ flutter
013:141,11['  ]| in$4$ her cheek and she had all she could do to$9$ keep from asking:
013:141,12[E  ]| ~~ And who$6#2$ is the \Cometty\, pray?
013:141,13['  ]| But she knew that$3$ it would not be ladylike to$9$ do that$6#2$: so$3$
013:141,14['  ]| she was silent.
013:141,15['  ]| Little boys were sent out into the principal streets of Dublin
013:141,16['  ]| early on$4$ Friday morning with bundles of handbills. Special
013:141,17['  ]| puffs appeared in$4$ all the evening papers reminding the music-loving
013:141,18['  ]| public of the treat which$6#1$ was in$4$ store for$4$ it on$4$ the following
013:141,19['  ]| evening. Mrs*Kearney was somewhat reassured but she
013:141,20['  ]| thought well to$9$ tell her husband part of her suspicions. He
013:141,21['  ]| listened carefully and said that$3$ perhaps it would be better if he
013:141,22['  ]| went with her on$4$ Saturday night. She agreed. She respected
013:141,23['  ]| her husband in$4$ the same way as she respected the General*Post*Office, 
013:141,24['  ]| as something large, secure and fixed; and though she
013:141,25['  ]| knew the small number of his talents she appreciated his abstract
013:141,26['  ]| value as a male. She was glad that$3$ he had suggested coming
013:141,27['  ]| with her. She thought her plans over.
013:141,28['  ]| The night of the grand concert came. Mrs*Kearney, with
013:141,29['  ]| her husband and daughter, arrived at the Antient Concert
013:141,30['  ]| Rooms three-quarters of an hour before the time at which$6#1$ the
013:141,31['  ]| concert was to$9$ begin. By$4$ ill luck it was a rainy evening. Mrs*Kearney 
013:141,32['  ]| placed her daughter's clothes and music in$4$ charge
013:141,33['  ]| of her husband and went all over the building looking for$4$ Mr*Holohan 
013:141,34['  ]| or Mr*Fitzpatrick. She could find neither. She asked
013:142,01['  ]| the stewards was any member of the Committee in$4$ the hall
013:142,02['  ]| and, after a great deal of trouble, a steward brought out a little
013:142,03['  ]| woman named Miss*Beirne to$4$ whom Mrs*Kearney explained
013:142,04['  ]| that$3$ she wanted to$9$ see one of the secretaries. Miss*Beirne expected
013:142,05['  ]| them any minute and asked could she do anything.
013:142,06['  ]| Mrs*Kearney looked searchingly at the oldish face which$6#1$ was
013:142,07['  ]| screwed into an expression of trustfulness and enthusiasm and
013:142,08['  ]| answered:
013:142,09[E  ]| ~~ No$7$, thank you!
013:142,10['  ]| The little woman hoped they would have a good house.
013:142,11['  ]| She looked out at the rain until the melancholy of the wet
013:142,12['  ]| street effaced all the trustfulness and enthusiasm from her
013:142,13['  ]| twisted features. Then she gave a little sigh and said:
013:142,14[W  ]| ~~ Ah, well! We did our best, the dear knows.
013:142,15['  ]| Mrs*Kearney had to$9$ go back to$4$ the dressing-room.
013:142,16['  ]| The \artistes\ were arriving. The bass and the second tenor
013:142,17['  ]| had already come. The bass, Mr*Duggan, was a slender young
013:142,18['  ]| man with a scattered black moustache. He was the son of a
013:142,19['  ]| hall porter in$4$ an office in$4$ the city and, as a boy, he had sung
013:142,20['  ]| prolonged bass notes in$4$ the resounding hall. From this humble
013:142,21['  ]| state he had raised himself until he had become a first-rate
013:142,22['  ]| \artiste\. He had appeared in$4$ grand opera. One night, when an
013:142,23['  ]| operatic \artiste\ had fallen ill, he had undertaken the part of the
013:142,24['  ]| king in$4$ the opera of \Maritana\ at the Queen's*Theatre. He sang
013:142,25['  ]| his music with great feeling and volume and was warmly welcomed
013:142,26['  ]| by$4$ the gallery; but, unfortunately, he marred the good
013:142,27['  ]| impression by$4$ wiping his nose in$4$ his gloved hand once or twice
013:142,28['  ]| out of thoughtlessness. He was unassuming and spoke little. He
013:142,29['  ]| said \yous\ so$5#1$ softly that$3$ it passed unnoticed and he never drank
013:142,30['  ]| anything stronger than milk for$4$ his voice' sake. Mr*Bell, the
013:142,31['  ]| second tenor, was a fair-haired little man who$6#1$ competed every
013:142,32['  ]| year for$4$ prizes at the Feis Ceoil. On$4$ his fourth trial he had
013:142,33['  ]| been awarded a bronze medal. He was extremely nervous
013:142,34['  ]| and extremely jealous of other tenors and he covered his nervous
013:143,01['  ]| jealousy with an ebullient friendliness. It was his humour
013:143,02['  ]| to$9$ have people know what an ordeal a concert was to$4$ him.
013:143,03['  ]| Therefore when he saw Mr*Duggan he went over to$4$ him and
013:143,04['  ]| asked:
013:143,05[V  ]| ~~ Are you in$4$ it too?
013:143,07['  ]| Mr*Bell laughed at his fellow-sufferer, held out his hand and said:
013:143,08[V  ]| ~~ Shake!
013:143,09['  ]| Mrs*Kearney passed by$4$ these two young men and went
013:143,10['  ]| to$4$ the edge of the screen to$9$ view the house. The seats were
013:143,11['  ]| being filled up$5$ rapidly and a pleasant noise circulated in$4$ the
013:143,12['  ]| auditorium. She came back and spoke to$4$ her husband privately.
013:143,13['  ]| Their conversation was evidently about Kathleen for$3$ they
013:143,14['  ]| both glanced at her often as she stood chatting to$4$ one of her
013:143,15['  ]| Nationalist friends, Miss*Healy, the contralto. An unknown
013:143,16['  ]| solitary woman with a pale face walked through the room.
013:143,17['  ]| The women followed with keen eyes the faded blue dress
013:143,18['  ]| which$6#1$ was stretched upon$4$ a meagre body. Someone said that$3$
013:143,19['  ]| she was Madam*Glynn, the soprano.
013:143,20[W  ]| ~~ I wonder where did they dig her up$5$, 
013:143,20['  ]| said Kathleen to$4$
013:143,21['  ]| Miss*Healy. 
013:143,21[W  ]| I am sure I never heard of her.
013:143,22['  ]| Miss*Healy had to$9$ smile. Mr*Holohan limped into the
013:143,23['  ]| dressing-room at that$6#2$ moment and the two young ladies asked
013:143,24['  ]| him who$6#1$ was the unknown woman. Mr*Holohan said that$3$ she
013:143,25['  ]| was Madam*Glynn from London. Madam*Glynn took her
013:143,26['  ]| stand in$4$ a corner of the room, holding a roll of music stiffly
013:143,27['  ]| before her and from time to$4$ time changing the direction of
013:143,28['  ]| her startled gaze. The shadow took her faded dress into shelter
013:143,29['  ]| but fell revengefully into the little cup behind her collar-bone.
013:143,30['  ]| The noise of the hall became more audible. The first tenor and
013:143,31['  ]| the baritone arrived together. They were both well dressed,
013:143,32['  ]| stout and complacent and they brought a breath of opulence
013:143,33['  ]| among the company.
013:144,01['  ]| Mrs*Kearney brought her daughter over to$4$ them, and
013:144,02['  ]| talked to$4$ them amiably. She wanted to$9$ be on$4$ good terms with
013:144,03['  ]| them but, while she strove to$9$ be polite, her eyes followed Mr*Holohan 
013:144,04['  ]| in$4$ his limping and devious courses. As soon as she
013:144,05['  ]| could she excused herself and went out after him.
013:144,06[E  ]| ~~ Mr*Holohan, I want to$9$ speak to$4$ you for$4$ a moment, 
013:144,06['  ]| she
013:144,07['  ]| said.
013:144,08['  ]| They went down to$4$ a discreet part of the corridor. Mrs*Kearney 
013:144,09['  ]| asked him when was her daughter going to$9$ be paid.
013:144,10['  ]| Mr*Holohan said that$3$ Mr*Fitzpatrick had charge of that$6#2$. Mrs*Kearney 
013:144,11['  ]| said that$3$ she did not know anything about Mr*Fitzpatrick.
013:144,12['  ]| Her daughter had signed a contract for$4$ eight guineas
013:144,13['  ]| and she would have to$9$ be paid. Mr*Holohan said that$3$ it was not
013:144,14['  ]| his business.
013:144,15[E  ]| ~~ Why is not it your business? 
013:144,15['  ]| asked Mrs*Kearney. 
013:144,15[E  ]| Did not
013:144,16[E  ]| you yourself bring her the contract? Anyway, if it is not your
013:144,17[E  ]| business it is my business and I mean to$9$ see to$4$ it.
013:144,18[G  ]| ~~ You had better speak to$4$ Mr*Fitzpatrick, 
013:144,18['  ]| said Mr*Holohan
013:144,19['  ]| distantly.
013:144,20[E  ]| ~~ I do not know anything about Mr*Fitzpatrick, 
013:144,20['  ]| repeated
013:144,21['  ]| Mrs*Kearney. 
013:144,21[E  ]| I have my contract, and I intend to$9$ see that$3$ it is
013:144,22[E  ]| carried out.
013:144,23['  ]| When she came back to$4$ the dressing-room her cheeks were
013:144,24['  ]| slightly suffused. The room was lively. Two men in$4$ outdoor
013:144,25['  ]| dress had taken possession of the fireplace and were chatting
013:144,26['  ]| familiarly with Miss*Healy and the baritone. They were the
013:144,27['  ]| \Freeman\ man and Mr*O'Madden*Burke. The \Freeman\ man
013:144,28['  ]| had come in$5$ to$9$ say that$3$ he could not wait for$4$ the concert as
013:144,29['  ]| he had to$9$ report the lecture which$6#1$ an American priest was
013:144,30['  ]| giving in$4$ the Mansion House. He said they were to$9$ leave the
013:144,31['  ]| report for$4$ him at the \Freeman\ office and he would see that$3$ it
013:144,32['  ]| went in$5$. He was a grey-haired man, with a plausible voice
013:144,33['  ]| and careful manners. He held an extinguished cigar in$4$ his
013:144,34['  ]| hand and the aroma of cigar smoke floated near him. He had
013:145,01['  ]| not intended to$9$ stay a moment because concerts and \artistes\
013:145,02['  ]| bored him considerably but he remained leaning against the
013:145,03['  ]| mantelpiece. Miss*Healy stood in$4$ front of him, talking and
013:145,04['  ]| laughing. He was old enough to$9$ suspect one reason for$4$ her
013:145,05['  ]| politeness but young enough in$4$ spirit to$9$ turn the moment to$9$
013:145,06['  ]| account. The warmth, fragrance and colour of her body appealed
013:145,07['  ]| to$4$ his senses. He was pleasantly conscious that$3$ the
013:145,08['  ]| bosom which$6#1$ he saw rise and fall slowly beneath him rose and
013:145,09['  ]| fell at that$6#2$ moment for$4$ him, that$3$ the laughter and fragrance
013:145,10['  ]| and wilful glances were his tribute. When he could stay no$2$
013:145,11['  ]| longer he took leave of her regretfully.
013:145,12[V  ]| ~~ O'Madden Burke will$1$ write the notice, 
013:145,12['  ]| he explained to$4$
013:145,13['  ]| Mr*Holohan, 
013:145,13[V  ]| and I will$1$ see it in$5$.
013:145,14[G  ]| ~~ Thank you very much, Mr*Hendrick, 
013:145,14['  ]| said Mr*Holohan.
013:145,15[G  ]| You will$1$ see it in$5$, I know. Now, will$1$ not you have a little something
013:145,16[G  ]| before you go?
013:145,17[V  ]| ~~ I do not mind, 
013:145,17['  ]| said Mr*Hendrick.
013:145,18['  ]| The two men went along some tortuous passages and up$4$
013:145,19['  ]| a dark staircase and came to$4$ a secluded room where one of
013:145,20['  ]| the stewards was uncorking bottles for$4$ a few gentlemen.
013:145,21['  ]| One of these gentlemen was Mr*O'Madden*Burke, who$6#1$ had
013:145,22['  ]| found out the room by$4$ instinct. He was a suave elderly man
013:145,23['  ]| who$6#1$ balanced his imposing body, when at rest, upon$4$ a large
013:145,24['  ]| silk umbrella. His magniloquent western name was the moral
013:145,25['  ]| umbrella upon$4$ which$6#1$ he balanced the fine problem of his
013:145,26['  ]| finances. He was widely respected.
013:145,27['  ]| While Mr*Holohan was entertaining the \Freeman\ man Mrs*Kearney 
013:145,28['  ]| was speaking so$5#1$ animatedly to$4$ her husband that$3$ he
013:145,29['  ]| had to$9$ ask her to$9$ lower her voice. The conversation of the
013:145,30['  ]| others in$4$ the dressing-room had become strained. Mr*Bell, the
013:145,31['  ]| first item, stood ready with his music but the accompanist
013:145,32['  ]| made no$2$ sign. Evidently something was wrong. Mr*Kearney
013:145,33['  ]| looked straight before him, stroking his beard, while Mrs*Kearney 
013:145,34['  ]| spoke into Kathleen's ear with subdued emphasis.
013:146,01['  ]| From the hall came sounds of encouragement, clapping and
013:146,02['  ]| stamping of feet. The first tenor and the baritone and Miss*Healy
013:146,03['  ]| stood together, waiting tranquilly, but Mr*Bell's nerves
013:146,04['  ]| were greatly agitated because he was afraid the audience
013:146,05['  ]| would think that$3$ he had come late.
013:146,06['  ]| Mr*Holohan and Mr*O'Madden*Burke came into the room.
013:146,07['  ]| In$4$ a moment Mr*Holohan perceived the hush. He went over
013:146,08['  ]| to$4$ Mrs*Kearney and spoke with her earnestly. While they
013:146,09['  ]| were speaking the noise in$4$ the hall grew louder. Mr*Holohan
013:146,10['  ]| became very red and excited. He spoke volubly, but Mrs*Kearney 
013:146,11['  ]| said curtly at intervals:
013:146,12[E  ]| ~~ She will$1$ not go on$5$. She must get her eight guineas.
013:146,13['  ]| Mr*Holohan pointed desperately towards the hall where
013:146,14['  ]| the audience was clapping and stamping. He appealed to$4$ Mr*Kearney 
013:146,15['  ]| and to$4$ Kathleen. But Mr*Kearney continued to$9$ stroke
013:146,16['  ]| his beard and Kathleen looked down, moving the point of
013:146,17['  ]| her new shoe: it was not her fault. Mrs*Kearney repeated:
013:146,18[E  ]| ~~ She will$1$ not go on$5$ without her money.
013:146,19['  ]| After a swift struggle of tongues Mr*Holohan hobbled out
013:146,20['  ]| in$4$ haste. The room was silent. When the strain of the silence
013:146,21['  ]| had become somewhat painful Miss*Healy said to$4$ the baritone:
013:146,22[W  ]| ~~ Have you seen Mrs*Pat Campbell this week?
013:146,23['  ]| The baritone had not seen her but he had been told that$3$
013:146,24['  ]| she was very fine. The conversation went no$2$ further. The first
013:146,25['  ]| tenor bent his head and began to$9$ count the links of the gold
013:146,26['  ]| chain which$6#1$ was extended across his waist, smiling and humming random
013:146,27['  ]| notes to$9$ observe the effect on$4$ the frontal sinus.
013:146,28['  ]| From time to$4$ time everyone glanced at Mrs*Kearney.
013:146,29['  ]| The noise in$4$ the auditorium had risen to$4$ a clamour when
013:146,30['  ]| Mr*Fitzpatrick burst into the room, followed by$4$ Mr*Holohan,
013:146,31['  ]| who$6#1$ was panting. The clapping and stamping in$4$ the hall were
013:146,32['  ]| punctuated by$4$ whistling. Mr*Fitzpatrick held a few bank-notes
013:146,33['  ]| in$4$ his hand. He counted out four into Mrs*Kearney's
013:147,01['  ]| hand and said she would get the other half at the interval.
013:147,02['  ]| Mrs*Kearney said:
013:147,03[E  ]| ~~ This is four shillings short.
013:147,04['  ]| But Kathleen gathered in$4$ her skirt and said: 
013:147,04[W  ]| \Now\, \Mr*Bell\,
013:147,05['  ]| to$4$ the first item, who$6#1$ was shaking like$4$ an aspen. The singer
013:147,06['  ]| and the accompanist went out together. The noise in$4$ the hall
013:147,07['  ]| died away. There was a pause of a few seconds: and then the
013:147,08['  ]| piano was heard.
013:147,09['  ]| The first part of the concert was very successful except for$4$
013:147,10['  ]| Madam*Glynn's item. The poor lady sang \Killarney\ in$4$ a bodiless
013:147,11['  ]| gasping voice, with all the old-fashioned mannerisms of
013:147,12['  ]| intonation and pronunciation which$6#1$ she believed lent elegance
013:147,13['  ]| to$4$ her singing. She looked as if she had been resurrected from
013:147,14['  ]| an old stage-wardrobe and the cheaper parts of the hall made
013:147,15['  ]| fun of her high wailing notes. The first tenor and the contralto,
013:147,16['  ]| however, brought down the house. Kathleen played a selection
013:147,17['  ]| of Irish airs which$6#1$ was generously applauded. The first
013:147,18['  ]| part closed with a stirring patriotic recitation delivered by$4$ a
013:147,19['  ]| young lady who$6#1$ arranged amateur theatricals. It was deservedly
013:147,20['  ]| applauded; and, when it was ended, the men went
013:147,21['  ]| out for$4$ the interval, content.
013:147,22['  ]| All this time the dressing-room was a hive of excitement.
013:147,23['  ]| In$4$ one corner were Mr*Holohan, Mr*Fitzpatrick, Miss*Beirne,
013:147,24['  ]| two of the stewards, the baritone, the bass, and Mr*O'Madden*Burke. 
013:147,25['  ]| Mr*O'Madden*Burke said it was the most scandalous
013:147,26['  ]| exhibition he had ever witnessed. Miss*Kathleen*Kearney's
013:147,27['  ]| musical career was ended in$4$ Dublin after that$6#2$, he said. The
013:147,28['  ]| baritone was asked what did he think of Mrs*Kearney's conduct.
013:147,29['  ]| He did not like$1$ to$9$ say anything. He had been paid his
013:147,30['  ]| money and wished to$9$ be at peace with men. However, he said
013:147,31['  ]| that$3$ Mrs*Kearney might have taken the \artistes\ into consideration.
013:147,32['  ]| The stewards and the secretaries debated hotly as to$4$
013:147,33['  ]| what should be done when the interval came.
013:148,01[W  ]| ~~ I agree with Miss*Beirne, 
013:148,01['  ]| said Mr*O'Madden*Burke. 
013:148,01[W  ]| Pay
013:148,02[W  ]| her nothing.
013:148,03['  ]| In$4$ another corner of the room were Mrs*Kearney and her
013:148,04['  ]| husband, Mr*Bell, Miss*Healy and the young lady who$6#1$ had
013:148,05['  ]| recited the patriotic piece. Mrs*Kearney said that$3$ the Committee
013:148,06['  ]| had treated her scandalously. She had spared neither trouble
013:148,07['  ]| nor expense and this was how she was repaid.
013:148,08['  ]| They thought they had only a girl to$9$ deal with and that$3$,
013:148,09['  ]| therefore, they could ride roughshod over her. But she would
013:148,10['  ]| show them their mistake. They would not have dared to$9$ have
013:148,11['  ]| treated her like$4$ that$6#2$ if she had been a man. But she would see
013:148,12['  ]| that$3$ her daughter got her rights: she would not be fooled. If they
013:148,13['  ]| did not pay her to$4$ the last farthing she would make Dublin ring.
013:148,14['  ]| Of course she was sorry for$4$ the sake of the \artistes\. But what
013:148,15['  ]| else could she do? She appealed to$4$ the second tenor who$6#1$ said
013:148,16['  ]| he thought she had not been well treated. Then she appealed to$4$
013:148,17['  ]| Miss*Healy. Miss*Healy wanted to$9$ join the other group but she
013:148,18['  ]| did not like$1$ to$9$ do so$5#2$ because she was a great friend of Kathleen's
013:148,19['  ]| and the Kearneys had often invited her to$4$ their house.
013:148,20['  ]| As soon as the first part was ended Mr*Fitzpatrick and Mr*Holohan 
013:148,21['  ]| went over to$4$ Mrs*Kearney and told her that$3$ the other
013:148,22['  ]| four guineas would be paid after the Committee meeting
013:148,23['  ]| on$4$ the following Tuesday and that$3$, in$4$ case her daughter
013:148,24['  ]| did not play for$4$ the second part, the Committee would consider
013:148,25['  ]| the contract broken and would pay nothing.
013:148,26[E  ]| ~~ I have not seen any Committee, 
013:148,26['  ]| said Mrs*Kearney angrily.
013:148,27[E  ]| My daughter has her contract. She will$1$ get four pounds eight
013:148,28[E  ]| into her hand or a foot she will$1$ not put on$4$ that$6#2$ platform.
013:148,29[G  ]| ~~ I am surprised at you, Mrs*Kearney, 
013:148,29['  ]| said Mr*Holohan.
013:148,30[G  ]| I never thought you would treat us this way.
013:148,31[E  ]| ~~ And what way did you treat me? 
013:148,31['  ]| asked Mrs*Kearney.
013:148,32['  ]| Her face was inundated with an angry colour and she
013:148,33['  ]| looked as if she would attack someone with her hands.
013:148,34[E  ]| ~~ I am asking for$4$ my rights, 
013:148,34['  ]| she said.
013:149,01[G  ]| ~~ You might have some sense of decency, 
013:149,01['  ]| said Mr*Holohan.
013:149,02[E  ]| ~~ Might I, indeed? ~~ And when I ask when my daughter
013:149,03[E  ]| is going to$9$ be paid I can not get a civil answer.
013:149,04['  ]| She tossed her head and assumed a haughty voice:
013:149,05@g   | ~~ You must speak to$4$ the secretary. It is not my business. I am
013:149,06@g   | a great fellow fol-the-diddle-I-do.
013:149,07[G  ]| ~~ I thought you were a lady, 
013:149,07['  ]| said Mr*Holohan, walking
013:149,08['  ]| away from her abruptly.
013:149,09['  ]| After that$6#2$ Mrs*Kearney's conduct was condemned on$4$ all
013:149,10['  ]| hands: everyone approved of what the Committee had done.
013:149,11['  ]| She stood at the door, haggard with rage, arguing with her
013:149,12['  ]| husband and daughter, gesticulating with them. She waited
013:149,13['  ]| until it was time for$4$ the second part to$9$ begin in$4$ the hope that$3$
013:149,14['  ]| the secretaries would approach her. But Miss*Healy had kindly
013:149,15['  ]| consented to$9$ play one or two accompaniments. Mrs*Kearney
013:149,16['  ]| had to$9$ stand aside to$9$ allow the baritone and his accompanist
013:149,17['  ]| to$9$ pass up$5$ to$4$ the platform. She stood still for$4$ an instant like$4$ an
013:149,18['  ]| angry stone image and, when the first notes of the song struck
013:149,19['  ]| her ear, she caught up$5$ her daughter's cloak and said to$4$ her
013:149,20['  ]| husband:
013:149,21[E  ]| ~~ Get a cab!
013:149,22['  ]| He went out at once. Mrs*Kearney wrapped the cloak round
013:149,23['  ]| her daughter and followed him. As she passed through the
013:149,24['  ]| doorway she stopped and glared into Mr*Holohan's face.
013:149,25[E  ]| ~~ I am not done with you yet, 
013:149,25['  ]| she said.
013:149,26[G  ]| ~~ But I am done with you, 
013:149,26['  ]| said Mr*Holohan.
013:149,27['  ]| Kathleen followed her mother meekly. Mr*Holohan began
013:149,28['  ]| to$9$ pace up$4$ and down the room, in$4$ order to$9$ cool himself for$3$
013:149,29['  ]| he felt his skin on$4$ fire.
013:149,30[G  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is a nice lady! 
013:149,30['  ]| he said. 
013:149,30[G  ]| O, she is a nice lady!
013:149,31[V  ]| ~~ You did the proper thing, Holohan, 
013:149,31['  ]| said Mr*O'Madden*Burke, 
013:149,32['  ]| poised upon$4$ his umbrella in$4$ approval.
014:150,00@@@@@|
014:150,01['  ]| <GRACE>
014:150,02['  ]| Two gentlemen who$6#1$ were in$4$ the lavatory at the time tried
014:150,03['  ]| to$9$ lift him up$5$: but he was quite helpless. He lay curled up$5$ at
014:150,04['  ]| the foot of the stairs down which$6#1$ he had fallen. They succeeded
014:150,05['  ]| in$4$ turning him over. His hat had rolled a few yards
014:150,06['  ]| away and his clothes were smeared with the filth and ooze
014:150,07['  ]| of the floor on$4$ which$6#1$ he had lain, face downwards. His eyes
014:150,08['  ]| were closed and he breathed with a grunting noise. A thin
014:150,09['  ]| stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
014:150,10['  ]| These two gentlemen and one of the curates carried him
014:150,11['  ]| up$4$ the stairs and laid him down again on$4$ the floor of the bar.
014:150,12['  ]| In$4$ two minutes he was surrounded by$4$ a ring of men. The
014:150,13['  ]| manager of the bar asked everyone who$6#1$ he was and who$6#1$ was
014:150,14['  ]| with him. No*one knew who$6#1$ he was but one of the curates
014:150,15['  ]| said he had served the gentleman with a small rum.
014:150,16[H  ]| ~~ Was he by$4$ himself? 
014:150,16['  ]| asked the manager.
014:150,17[X  ]| ~~ No$7$, sir. There was two gentlemen with him.
014:150,18[H  ]| ~~ And where are they?
014:150,19['  ]| No*one knew; a voice said:
014:151,01[X  ]| ~~ Give him air. He has fainted.
014:151,02['  ]| The ring of onlookers distended and closed again elastically.
014:151,03['  ]| A dark medal of blood had formed itself near the man's
014:151,04['  ]| head on$4$ the tessellated floor. The manager, alarmed by$4$ the
014:151,05['  ]| grey pallor of the man's face, sent for$4$ a policeman.
014:151,06['  ]| His collar was unfastened and his necktie undone. He opened
014:151,07['  ]| his eyes for$4$ an instant, sighed and closed them again. One of
014:151,08['  ]| the gentlemen who$6#1$ had carried him upstairs held a dinged silk
014:151,09['  ]| hat in$4$ his hand. The manager asked repeatedly did no*one know
014:151,10['  ]| who$6#1$ the injured man was or where had his friends gone. The
014:151,11['  ]| door of the bar opened and an immense constable entered. A
014:151,12['  ]| crowd which$6#1$ had followed him down the laneway collected
014:151,13['  ]| outside the door, struggling to$9$ look in$5$ through the glass panels.
014:151,14['  ]| The manager at once began to$9$ narrate what he knew. The
014:151,15['  ]| constable, a young man with thick immobile features, listened.
014:151,16['  ]| He moved his head slowly to$4$ right and left and from the manager
014:151,17['  ]| to$4$ the person on$4$ the floor, as if he feared to$9$ be the victim
014:151,18['  ]| of some delusion. Then he drew off his glove, produced a small
014:151,19['  ]| book from his waist, licked the lead of his pencil and made
014:151,20['  ]| ready to$9$ indite. He asked in$4$ a suspicious provincial accent:
014:151,21[I  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is the man? What is his name and address?
014:151,22['  ]| A young man in$4$ a cycling-suit cleared his way through the
014:151,23['  ]| ring of bystanders. He knelt down promptly beside the injured
014:151,24['  ]| man and called for$4$ water. The constable knelt down also to$9$
014:151,25['  ]| help. The young man washed the blood from the injured
014:151,26['  ]| man's mouth and then called for$4$ some brandy. The constable
014:151,27['  ]| repeated the order in$4$ an authoritative voice until a curate came
014:151,28['  ]| running with the glass. The brandy was forced down the man's
014:151,29['  ]| throat. In$4$ a few seconds he opened his eyes and looked about
014:151,30['  ]| him. He looked at the circle of faces and then, understanding,
014:151,31['  ]| strove to$9$ rise to$4$ his feet.
014:151,32[J  ]| ~~ You are all right now? 
014:151,32['  ]| asked the young man in$4$ the
014:151,33['  ]| cycling-suit.
014:151,34[K  ]| ~~ Sha, is nothing, 
014:151,34['  ]| said the injured man, trying to$9$ stand up$5$.
014:152,01['  ]| He was helped to$4$ his feet. The manager said something
014:152,02['  ]| about a hospital and some of the bystanders gave advice. The
014:152,03['  ]| battered silk hat was placed on$4$ the man's head. The constable
014:152,04['  ]| asked:
014:152,05[I  ]| ~~ Where do you live?
014:152,06['  ]| The man, without answering, began to$9$ twirl the ends of
014:152,07['  ]| his moustache. He made light of his accident. 
014:152,07@k   | It was nothing,
014:152,08['  ]| he said: 
014:152,08@k   | only a little accident. 
014:152,08['  ]| He spoke very thickly.
014:152,09[I  ]| ~~ Where do you live? 
014:152,09['  ]| repeated the constable.
014:152,10['  ]| The man said they were to$9$ get a cab for$4$ him. While the
014:152,11['  ]| point was being debated a tall agile gentleman of fair complexion,
014:152,12['  ]| wearing a long yellow ulster, came from the far end
014:152,13['  ]| of the bar. Seeing the spectacle he called out:
014:152,14[L  ]| ~~ Hallo, Tom, old man! What is the trouble?
014:152,15[K  ]| ~~ Sha, is nothing, 
014:152,15['  ]| said the man.
014:152,16['  ]| The new-comer surveyed the deplorable figure before him
014:152,17['  ]| and then turned to$4$ the constable saying:
014:152,18[L  ]| ~~ It is all right, constable. I will$1$ see him home.
014:152,19['  ]| The constable touched his helmet and answered:
014:152,20[I  ]| ~~ All right, Mr*Power!
014:152,21[L  ]| ~~ Come now, Tom, 
014:152,21['  ]| said Mr*Power, taking his friend by$4$
014:152,22['  ]| the arm. 
014:152,22[L  ]| No$2$ bones broken. What? Can you walk?
014:152,23['  ]| The young man in$4$ the cycling-suit took the man by$4$ the
014:152,24['  ]| other arm and the crowd divided.
014:152,25[L  ]| ~~ How did you get yourself into this mess? 
014:152,25['  ]| asked Mr*Power.
014:152,26['  ]| 
014:152,27[J  ]| ~~ The gentleman fell down the stairs, 
014:152,27['  ]| said the young man.
014:152,28[K  ]| ~~ Im 'ery 'uch o'liged to$4$ you, sir, 
014:152,28['  ]| said the injured man.
014:152,29[J  ]| ~~ Not at all.
014:152,30[K  ]| ~~ have not we have a little ~~?
014:152,31[L  ]| ~~ Not now. Not now.
014:152,32['  ]| The three men left the bar and the crowd sifted through
014:152,33['  ]| the doors into the laneway. The manager brought the constable
014:152,34['  ]| to$4$ the stairs to$9$ inspect the scene of the accident. They
014:153,01['  ]| agreed that$3$ the gentleman must have missed his footing. The
014:153,02['  ]| customers returned to$4$ the counter and a curate set about removing
014:153,03['  ]| the traces of blood from the floor.
014:153,04['  ]| When they came out into Grafton*Street Mr*Power
014:153,05['  ]| whistled for$4$ an outsider. The injured man said again as well as
014:153,06['  ]| he could:
014:153,07[K  ]| ~~ Im 'ery 'uch o'liged to$4$ you, sir. I hope we will$1$ 'eet again.
014:153,08[K  ]| 'y na'e is Kernan.
014:153,09['  ]| The shock and the incipient pain had partly sobered him.
014:153,10[J  ]| ~~ Do not mention it, 
014:153,10['  ]| said the young man.
014:153,11['  ]| They shook hands. Mr*Kernan was hoisted on$5$ to$4$ the car
014:153,12['  ]| and, while Mr*Power was giving directions to$4$ the carman, he
014:153,13['  ]| expressed his gratitude to$4$ the young man and regretted that$3$
014:153,14['  ]| they could not have a little drink together.
014:153,15[J  ]| ~~ Another time, 
014:153,15['  ]| said the young man.
014:153,16['  ]| The car drove off towards Westmoreland*Street. As it passed
014:153,17['  ]| the Ballast Office the clock showed half-past nine. A keen east
014:153,18['  ]| wind hit them blowing from the mouth of the river. Mr*Kernan
014:153,19['  ]| was huddled together with cold. His friend asked him to$9$
014:153,20['  ]| tell how the accident had happened.
014:153,21[K  ]| ~~ I can not, 'an, he 
014:153,21['  ]| answered, 
014:153,21[K  ]| 'y 'ongue is hurt.
014:153,22[L  ]| ~~ Show.
014:153,23['  ]| The other leaned over the well of the car and peered into
014:153,24['  ]| Mr*Kernan's mouth but he could not see. He struck a match
014:153,25['  ]| and, sheltering it in$4$ the shell of his hands, peered again into the
014:153,26['  ]| mouth which$6#1$ Mr*Kernan opened obediently. The swaying
014:153,27['  ]| movement of the car brought the match to$4$ and from the
014:153,28['  ]| opened mouth. The lower teeth and gums were covered with
014:153,29['  ]| clotted blood and a minute piece of the tongue seemed to$9$ have
014:153,30['  ]| been bitten off. The match was blown out.
014:153,31[L  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is ugly, 
014:153,31['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:153,32[K  ]| ~~ Sha, is nothing, 
014:153,32['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, closing his mouth and pulling
014:153,33['  ]| the collar of his filthy coat across his neck.
014:153,34['  ]| Mr*Kernan was a commercial traveller of the old school
014:154,01['  ]| which$6#1$ believed in$4$ the dignity of its calling. He had never been
014:154,02['  ]| seen in$4$ the city without a silk hat of some decency and a pair
014:154,03['  ]| of gaiters. By$4$ grace of these two articles of clothing, he said, a
014:154,04['  ]| man could always pass muster. He carried on$5$ the tradition of
014:154,05['  ]| his Napoleon, the great Blackwhite, whose memory he evoked
014:154,06['  ]| at times by$4$ legend and mimicry. Modern business methods had
014:154,07['  ]| spared him only so$5#1$ far as to$9$ allow him a little office in$4$ Crowe*Street 
014:154,08['  ]| on$4$ the window blind of which$6#1$ was written the name of
014:154,09['  ]| his firm with the address ~~  London, E.C. On$4$ the mantelpiece
014:154,10['  ]| of this little office a little leaden battalion of canisters was
014:154,11['  ]| drawn up$5$ and on$4$ the table before the window stood four or
014:154,12['  ]| five china bowls which$6#1$ were usually half full of a black liquid.
014:154,13['  ]| From these bowls Mr*Kernan tasted tea. He took a mouthful,
014:154,14['  ]| drew it up$5$, saturated his palate with it and then spat it forth
014:154,15['  ]| into the grate. Then he paused to$9$ judge.
014:154,16['  ]| Mr*Power, a much younger man, was employed in$4$ the
014:154,17['  ]| Royal*Irish*Constabulary*Office in$4$ Dublin*Castle. The arc of
014:154,18['  ]| his social rise intersected the arc of his friend's decline but
014:154,19['  ]| Mr*Kernan's decline was mitigated
014:154,20['  ]| those friends who$6#1$ had known him at his highest point of success
014:154,21['  ]| still esteemed him as a character. Mr*Power was one of
014:154,22['  ]| these friends. His inexplicable debts were a byword in$4$ his circle;
014:154,23['  ]| he was a debonair young man.
014:154,24['  ]| The car halted before a small house on$4$ the Glasnevin road
014:154,25['  ]| and Mr*Kernan was helped into the house. His wife put him
014:154,26['  ]| to$4$ bed while Mr*Power sat downstairs in$4$ the kitchen asking
014:154,27['  ]| the children where they went to$4$ school and what book they
014:154,28['  ]| were in$4$. The children ~~  two girls and a boy, conscious of their
014:154,29['  ]| father's helplessness and of their mother's absence, began some
014:154,30['  ]| horseplay with him. He was surprised at their manners and at
014:154,31['  ]| their accents and his brow grew thoughtful. After a while Mrs*Kernan 
014:154,32['  ]| entered the kitchen, exclaiming:
014:154,33[M  ]| ~~ Such a sight! O, he will$1$ do for$4$ himself one day and that$6#2$ is
014:154,34[M  ]| the holy alls of it. He has been drinking since Friday.
014:155,01['  ]| Mr*Power was careful to$9$ explain to$4$ her that$3$ he was not
014:155,02['  ]| responsible, that$3$ he had come on$4$ the scene by$4$ the merest
014:155,03['  ]| accident. Mrs*Kernan, remembering Mr*Power's good offices
014:155,04['  ]| during domestic quarrels as well as many small, but opportune
014:155,05['  ]| loans, said:
014:155,06[M  ]| ~~ O, you need not tell me that$6#2$, Mr*Power. I know you are
014:155,07[M  ]| a friend of his not like$4$ some of those others he does be with.
014:155,08[M  ]| They are all right so$5#1$ long as he has money in$4$ his pocket to$9$ keep
014:155,09[M  ]| him out from his wife and family. Nice friends! Who$6#2$ was he
014:155,10[M  ]| with to-night, I would like$1$ to$9$ know?
014:155,11['  ]| Mr*Power shook his head but said nothing.
014:155,12[M  ]| ~~ I am so$5#1$ sorry, 
014:155,12['  ]| she continued, 
014:155,12[M  ]| that$3$ I have nothing in$4$ the house
014:155,13[M  ]| to$9$ offer you. But if you wait a minute I will$1$ send round to$4$ Fogarty's
014:155,14[M  ]| at the corner.
014:155,15['  ]| Mr*Power stood up$5$.
014:155,16[M  ]| ~~ We were waiting for$4$ him to$9$ come home with the money.
014:155,17[M  ]| He never seems to$9$ think he has a home at all.
014:155,18[L  ]| ~~ O, now, Mrs*Kernan, 
014:155,18['  ]| said Mr*Power, 
014:155,18[L  ]| we will$1$ make him turn
014:155,19[L  ]| over a new leaf. I will$1$ talk to$4$ Martin. He is the man. We will$1$ come
014:155,20[L  ]| here one of these nights and talk it over.
014:155,21['  ]| She saw him to$4$ the door. The carman was stamping up$4$ and
014:155,22['  ]| down the footpath and swinging his arms to$9$ warm himself.
014:155,23[M  ]| ~~ It is very kind of you to$9$ bring him home, 
014:155,23['  ]| she said.
014:155,24[L  ]| ~~ Not at all, 
014:155,24['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:155,25['  ]| He got up$5$ on$4$ the car. As it drove off he raised his hat to$4$ her
014:155,26['  ]| gaily.
014:155,27[L  ]| ~~ We will$1$ make a new man of him, 
014:155,27['  ]| he said. 
014:155,27[L  ]| Good-night, Mrs*Kernan.
014:155,28['  ]| 
014:155,29['  ]| ~~
014:155,30['  ]| Mrs*Kernan's puzzled eyes watched the car till it was out
014:155,31['  ]| of sight. Then she withdrew them, went into the house and
014:155,32['  ]| emptied her husband's pockets.
014:155,33['  ]| She was an active, practical woman of middle age. Not
014:155,34['  ]| long before she had celebrated her silver wedding and renewed
014:156,01['  ]| her intimacy with her husband by$4$ waltzing with him
014:156,02['  ]| to$4$ Mr*Power's accompaniment. In$4$ her days of courtship Mr*Kernan 
014:156,03['  ]| had seemed to$4$ her a not ungallant figure: and she still
014:156,04['  ]| hurried to$4$ the chapel door whenever a wedding was reported
014:156,05['  ]| and, seeing the bridal pair, recalled with vivid pleasure how
014:156,06['  ]| she had passed out of the Star of the Sea Church in$4$ Sandymount,
014:156,07['  ]| leaning on$4$ the arm of a jovial well-fed man who$6#1$ was
014:156,08['  ]| dressed smartly in$4$ a frock-coat and lavender trousers and carried
014:156,09['  ]| a silk hat gracefully balanced upon$4$ his other arm. After
014:156,10['  ]| three weeks she had found a wife's life irksome and, later on$5$,
014:156,11['  ]| when she was beginning to$9$ find it unbearable, she had become
014:156,12['  ]| a mother. The part of mother presented to$4$ her no$2$ insuperable
014:156,13['  ]| difficulties and for$4$ twenty-five years she had kept
014:156,14['  ]| house shrewdly for$4$ her husband. Her two eldest sons were
014:156,15['  ]| launched. One was in$4$ a draper's shop in$4$ Glasgow and the
014:156,16['  ]| other was clerk to$4$ a tea-merchant in$4$ Belfast. They were good
014:156,17['  ]| sons, wrote regularly and sometimes sent home money. The
014:156,18['  ]| other children were still at school.
014:156,19['  ]| Mr*Kernan sent a letter to$4$ his office next day and remained
014:156,20['  ]| in$4$ bed. She made beef-tea for$4$ him and scolded him roundly.
014:156,21['  ]| She accepted his frequent intemperance as part of the climate,
014:156,22['  ]| healed him dutifully whenever he was sick and always tried
014:156,23['  ]| to$9$ make him eat a breakfast. There were worse husbands. He
014:156,24['  ]| had never been violent since the boys had grown up$5$ and she
014:156,25['  ]| knew that$3$ he would walk to$4$ the end of Thomas*Street and
014:156,26['  ]| back again to$9$ book even a small order.
014:156,27['  ]| Two nights after his friends came to$9$ see him. She brought
014:156,28['  ]| them up$5$ to$4$ his bedroom, the air of which$6#1$ was impregnated with
014:156,29['  ]| a personal odour, and gave them chairs at the fire. Mr*Kernan's
014:156,30['  ]| tongue, the occasional stinging pain of which$6#1$ had made him
014:156,31['  ]| somewhat irritable during the day, became more polite. He sat
014:156,32['  ]| propped up$5$ in$4$ the bed by$4$ pillows and the little colour in$4$ his
014:156,33['  ]| puffy cheeks made them resemble warm cinders. He apologised
014:157,01['  ]| to$4$ his guests for$4$ the disorder of the room but at the same time
014:157,02['  ]| looked at them a little proudly, with a veteran's pride.
014:157,03['  ]| He was quite unconscious that$3$ he was the victim of a plot
014:157,04['  ]| which$6#1$ his friends, Mr*Cunningham, Mr*M'Coy and Mr*Power
014:157,05['  ]| had disclosed to$4$ Mrs*Kernan in$4$ the parlour. The idea had been
014:157,06['  ]| Mr*Power's but its development was entrusted to$4$ Mr*Cunningham.
014:157,07['  ]| Mr*Kernan came of Protestant stock and, though he had
014:157,08['  ]| been converted to$4$ the Catholic faith at the time of his marriage,
014:157,09['  ]| he had not been in$4$ the pale of the Church for$4$ twenty
014:157,10['  ]| years. He was fond, moreover, of giving side-thrusts at Catholicism.
014:157,11['  ]| Mr*Cunningham was the very man for$4$ such a case. He was
014:157,12['  ]| an elder colleague of Mr*Power. His own domestic life was not
014:157,13['  ]| very happy. People had great sympathy with him for$3$ it was
014:157,14['  ]| known that$3$ he had married an unpresentable woman who$6#1$ was
014:157,15['  ]| an incurable drunkard. He had set up$5$ house for$4$ her six times;
014:157,16['  ]| and each time she had pawned the furniture on$4$ him.
014:157,17['  ]| Everyone had respect for$4$ poor Martin Cunningham. He
014:157,18['  ]| was a thoroughly sensible man, influential and intelligent. His
014:157,19['  ]| blade of human knowledge, natural astuteness particularised
014:157,20['  ]| by$4$ long association with cases in$4$ the police courts, had been
014:157,21['  ]| tempered by$4$ brief immersions in$4$ the waters of general philosophy.
014:157,22['  ]| He was well informed. His friends bowed to$4$ his opinions
014:157,23['  ]| and considered that$3$ his face was like$4$ Shakespeare's.
014:157,24['  ]| When the plot had been disclosed to$4$ her Mrs*Kernan had
014:157,25['  ]| said:
014:157,26[M  ]| ~~ I leave it all in$4$ your hands, Mr*Cunningham.
014:157,27['  ]| After a quarter of a century of married life she had very
014:157,28['  ]| few illusions left. Religion for$4$ her was a habit and she suspected
014:157,29['  ]| that$3$ a man of her husband's age would not change
014:157,30['  ]| greatly before death. She was tempted to$9$ see a curious appropriateness
014:157,31['  ]| in$4$ his accident and, but that$3$ she did not wish to$9$
014:157,32['  ]| seem bloody-minded, she would have told the gentlemen that$3$
014:158,01['  ]| Mr*Kernan's tongue would not suffer by$4$ being shortened.
014:158,02['  ]| However, Mr*Cunningham was a capable man; and religion was
014:158,03['  ]| religion. The scheme might do good and, at least, it could do
014:158,04['  ]| no$2$ harm. Her beliefs were not extravagant. She believed
014:158,05['  ]| steadily in$4$ the Sacred Heart as the most generally useful of all
014:158,06['  ]| Catholic devotions and approved of the sacraments. Her faith
014:158,07['  ]| was bounded by$4$ her kitchen but, if she was put to$4$ it, she could
014:158,08['  ]| believe also in$4$ the banshee and in$4$ the Holy Ghost.
014:158,09['  ]| The gentlemen began to$9$ talk of the accident. Mr*Cunningham
014:158,10['  ]| said that$3$ he had once known a similar case. A man of
014:158,11['  ]| seventy had bitten off a piece of his tongue during an epileptic
014:158,12['  ]| fit and the tongue had filled in$5$ again so$3$ that$3$ no*one could see
014:158,13['  ]| a trace of the bite.
014:158,14[K  ]| ~~ Well, I am not seventy, 
014:158,14['  ]| said the invalid.
014:158,15[N  ]| ~~ God forbid, 
014:158,15['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:158,16[O  ]| ~~ It does not pain you now?  
014:158,16['  ]| asked Mr*M'Coy.
014:158,17['  ]| Mr*M'Coy had been at one time a tenor of some reputation.
014:158,18['  ]| His wife, who$6#1$ had been a soprano, still taught young children
014:158,19['  ]| to$9$ play the piano at low terms. His line of life had not been the
014:158,20['  ]| shortest distance between two points and for$4$ short periods he
014:158,21['  ]| had been driven to$9$ live by$4$ his wits. He had been a clerk in$4$ the
014:158,22['  ]| Midland Railway, a canvasser for$4$ advertisements for$4$ \The*Irish*Times\
014:158,23['  ]| and for$4$ \The*Freeman's*Journal\, a town traveller for$4$ a
014:158,24['  ]| coal firm on$4$ commission, a private inquiry agent, a clerk in$4$
014:158,25['  ]| the office of the Sub-Sheriff and he had recently become secretary
014:158,26['  ]| to$4$ the City Coroner. His new office made him professionally
014:158,27['  ]| interested in$4$ Mr*Kernan's case.
014:158,28[K  ]| ~~ Pain? Not much, 
014:158,28['  ]| answered Mr*Kernan. 
014:158,28[K  ]| But it is so$5#1$ sickening.
014:158,29[K  ]| I feel as if I wanted to$9$ retch off.
014:158,30[N  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is the boose, 
014:158,30['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham firmly.
014:158,31[K  ]| ~~ No$7$, 
014:158,31['  ]| said Mr*Kernan. 
014:158,31[K  ]| I think I caught a cold on$4$ the car.
014:158,32[K  ]| There is something keeps coming into my throat, phlegm
014:158,33[K  ]| or ~~ 
014:158,34[O  ]| ~~ Mucus, 
014:158,34['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:159,01[K  ]| ~~ It keeps coming like$5$ from down in$4$ my throat; sickening
014:159,02[K  ]| thing.
014:159,03[O  ]| ~~ Yes, yes, 
014:159,03['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:159,03[O  ]| that$6#2$ is the thorax.
014:159,04['  ]| He looked at Mr*Cunningham and Mr*Power at the same time
014:159,05['  ]| with an air of challenge. Mr*Cunningham nodded his head
014:159,06['  ]| rapidly and Mr*Power said:
014:159,07[L  ]| ~~ Ah, well, all is well that$6#1$ ends well.
014:159,08[K  ]| ~~ I am very much obliged to$4$ you, old man, 
014:159,08['  ]| said the invalid.
014:159,09['  ]| Mr*Power waved his hand.
014:159,10[K  ]| ~~ Those other two fellows I was with ~~ 
014:159,11[N  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ were you with? 
014:159,11['  ]| asked Mr*Cunningham.
014:159,12[K  ]| ~~ A chap. I do not know his name. Damn it now, what is his
014:159,13[K  ]| name? Little chap with sandy hair ~~
014:159,14[X  ]| ~~ And who$6#2$ else?
014:159,15[K  ]| ~~ Harford.
014:159,16[N  ]| ~~ Hm, 
014:159,16['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:159,17['  ]| When Mr*Cunningham made that$6#2$ remark people were silent.
014:159,18['  ]| It was known that$3$ the speaker had secret sources of information.
014:159,19['  ]| In$4$ this case the monosyllable had a moral intention.
014:159,20['  ]| Mr*Harford sometimes formed one of a little detachment
014:159,21['  ]| which$6#1$ left the city shortly after noon on$4$ Sunday with the purpose
014:159,22['  ]| of arriving as soon as possible at some public-house on$4$ the
014:159,23['  ]| outskirts of the city where its members duly qualified themselves
014:159,24['  ]| as \bona-fide\ travellers. But his fellow-travellers had never
014:159,25['  ]| consented to$9$ overlook his origin. He had begun life as an obscure
014:159,26['  ]| financier by$4$ lending small sums of money to$4$ workmen at
014:159,27['  ]| usurious interest. Later on$5$ he had become the partner of a
014:159,28['  ]| very fat short gentleman, Mr*Goldberg, of the Liffey Loan
014:159,29['  ]| Bank. Though he had never embraced more than the Jewish
014:159,30['  ]| ethical code his fellow-Catholics, whenever they had smarted
014:159,31['  ]| in$4$ person or by$4$ proxy under his exactions, spoke of him bitterly
014:159,32['  ]| as an Irish Jew and an illiterate and saw divine disapproval
014:159,33['  ]| of usury made manifest through the person of his idiot
014:159,34['  ]| son. At other times they remembered his good points.
014:160,01[K  ]| ~~ I wonder where did he go to$4$, 
014:160,01['  ]| said Mr*Kernan.
014:160,02['  ]| He wished the details of the incident to$9$ remain vague. He
014:160,03['  ]| wished his friends to$9$ think there had been some mistake, that$3$
014:160,04['  ]| Mr*Harford and he had missed each other. His friends, who$6#1$
014:160,05['  ]| knew quite well Mr*Harford's manners in$4$ drinking, were silent.
014:160,06['  ]| Mr*Power said again:
014:160,07[L  ]| ~~ All is well that$6#1$ ends well.
014:160,08['  ]| Mr*Kernan changed the subject at once.
014:160,09[K  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ was a decent young chap, that$6#2$ medical fellow, he
014:160,10[K  ]| said. Only for$4$ him ~~ 
014:160,11[L  ]| ~~ O, only for$4$ him, 
014:160,11['  ]| said Mr*Power, 
014:160,11[L  ]| it might have been a case
014:160,12[L  ]| of seven days without the option of a fine.
014:160,13[K  ]| ~~ Yes, yes, 
014:160,13['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, trying to$9$ remember. 
014:160,13[K  ]| I remember
014:160,14[K  ]| now there was a policeman. Decent young fellow, he
014:160,15[K  ]| seemed. How did it happen at all?
014:160,16[N  ]| ~~ It happened that$3$ you were peloothered, Tom, 
014:160,16['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham 
014:160,17['  ]| gravely.
014:160,18[K  ]| ~~ True bill, 
014:160,18['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, equally gravely.
014:160,19[O  ]| ~~ I suppose you squared the constable, Jack, 
014:160,19['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:160,20['  ]| Mr*Power did not relish the use of his Christian name. He
014:160,21['  ]| was not straight-laced but he could not forget that$3$ Mr*M'Coy
014:160,22['  ]| had recently made a crusade in$4$ search of valises and portmanteaus
014:160,23['  ]| to$9$ enable Mrs*M'Coy to$9$ fulfil imaginary engagements
014:160,24['  ]| in$4$ the country. More than he resented the fact that$3$ he had been
014:160,25['  ]| victimised he resented such low playing of the game. He answered
014:160,26['  ]| the question, therefore, as if Mr*Kernan had asked it.
014:160,27['  ]| The narrative made Mr*Kernan indignant. He was keenly
014:160,28['  ]| conscious of his citizenship, wished to$9$ live with his city on$4$
014:160,29['  ]| terms mutually honourable and resented any affront put upon$4$
014:160,30['  ]| him by$4$ those whom he called country bumpkins.
014:160,31[K  ]| ~~ Is this what we pay rates for$4$? he asked. To$9$ feed and
014:160,32[K  ]| clothe these ignorant bostoons ~~ and they are nothing else.
014:160,33['  ]| Mr*Cunningham laughed. He was a Castle official only during
014:160,34['  ]| office hours.
014:161,01[N  ]| ~~ How could they be anything else, Tom? 
014:161,01['  ]| he said.
014:161,02['  ]| He assumed a thick provincial accent and said in$4$ a tone of
014:161,03['  ]| command:
014:161,04@x   | ~~ 65, catch your cabbage!
014:161,05['  ]| Everyone laughed. Mr*M'Coy, who$6#1$ wanted to$9$ enter the
014:161,06['  ]| conversation by$4$ any door, pretended that$3$ he had never heard
014:161,07['  ]| the story. Mr*Cunningham said:
014:161,08[N  ]| ~~ It is supposed ~~  they say, you know ~~  to$9$ take place in$4$ the
014:161,09[N  ]| depot where they get these thundering big country fellows,
014:161,10[N  ]| omadhauns, you know, to$9$ drill. The sergeant makes them stand
014:161,11[N  ]| in$4$ a row against the wall and held up$5$ their plates.
014:161,12['  ]| He illustrated the story by$4$ grotesque gestures.
014:161,13[N  ]| ~~ At dinner, you know. Then he has a bloody big bowl of
014:161,14[N  ]| cabbage before him on$4$ the table and a bloody big spoon like$4$ a
014:161,15[N  ]| shovel. He takes up$5$ a wad of cabbage on$4$ the spoon and pegs
014:161,16[N  ]| it across the room and the poor devils have to$9$ try and catch it
014:161,17[N  ]| on$4$ their plates: 
014:161,17@x   | \65\, catch\ your\ cabbage\.
014:161,18['  ]| Everyone laughed again: but Mr*Kernan was somewhat
014:161,19['  ]| indignant still. He talked of writing a letter to$4$ the papers.
014:161,20[K  ]| ~~ These yahoos coming up$5$ here, 
014:161,20['  ]| he said, 
014:161,20[K  ]| think they can boss
014:161,21[K  ]| the people. I need not tell you, Martin, what kind of men they
014:161,22[K  ]| are.
014:161,23['  ]| Mr*Cunningham gave a qualified assent.
014:161,24[N  ]| ~~ It is like$4$ everything else in$4$ this world, 
014:161,24['  ]| he said. 
014:161,24[N  ]| You get
014:161,25[N  ]| some bad ones and you get some good ones.
014:161,26[K  ]| ~~ O, yes, you get some good ones, I admit, 
014:161,26['  ]| said Mr*Kernan,
014:161,27['  ]| satisfied.
014:161,28[O  ]| ~~ It is better to$9$ have nothing to$9$ say to$4$ them, 
014:161,28['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:161,29[O  ]| That$6#2$ is my opinion!
014:161,30['  ]| Mrs*Kernan entered the room and, placing a tray on$4$ the
014:161,31['  ]| table, said:
014:161,32[M  ]| ~~ Help yourselves, gentlemen.
014:161,33['  ]| Mr*Power stood up$5$ to$9$ officiate, offering her his chair. She
014:161,34['  ]| declined it, saying she was ironing downstairs, and, after having
014:162,01['  ]| exchanged a nod with Mr*Cunningham behind Mr*Power's 
014:162,02['  ]| back, prepared to$9$ leave the room. Her husband called
014:162,03['  ]| out to$4$ her:
014:162,04[K  ]| ~~ And have you nothing for$4$ me, duckie?
014:162,05[M  ]| ~~ O, you! The back of my hand to$4$ you! 
014:162,05['  ]| said Mrs*Kernan
014:162,06['  ]| tartly.
014:162,07['  ]| Her husband called after her:
014:162,08[K  ]| ~~ Nothing for$4$ poor little hubby!
014:162,09['  ]| He assumed such a comical face and voice that$3$ the distribution
014:162,10['  ]| of the bottles of stout took place amid general merriment.
014:162,11['  ]| The gentlemen drank from their glasses, set the glasses again
014:162,12['  ]| on$4$ the table and paused. Then Mr*Cunningham turned towards
014:162,13['  ]| Mr*Power and said casually:
014:162,14[N  ]| ~~ On$4$ Thursday night, you said, Jack?
014:162,15[L  ]| ~~ Thursday, yes, 
014:162,15['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:162,16[N  ]| ~~ Righto! 
014:162,16['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham promptly.
014:162,17[O  ]| ~~ We can meet in$4$ M'Auley's, 
014:162,17[' ]| said Mr*M'Coy. 
014:162,17[O  ]| That$6#2$ will$1$ be
014:162,18[O  ]| the most convenient place.
014:162,19[L  ]| ~~ But we must not be late, 
014:162,19['  ]| said Mr*Power earnestly, 
014:162,19[L  ]| because
014:162,20[L  ]| it is sure to$9$ be crammed to$4$ the doors.
014:162,21[O  ]| ~~ We can meet at half-seven, 
014:162,21['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:162,22[N  ]| ~~ Righto! 
014:162,22['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:162,23[N  ]| ~~ Half-seven at M'Auley's be it!
014:162,24['  ]| There was a short silence. Mr*Kernan waited to$9$ see whether
014:162,25['  ]| he would be taken into his friends' confidence. Then he asked:
014:162,26[K  ]| ~~ What is in$4$ the wind?
014:162,27[N  ]| ~~ O, it is nothing, 
014:162,27['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham. 
014:162,27[N  ]| It is only a little
014:162,28[N  ]| matter that$6#1$ we are arranging about for$4$ Thursday.
014:162,29[K  ]| ~~ The opera, is it? 
014:162,29['  ]| said Mr*Kernan.
014:162,30[N  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, 
014:162,30['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham in$4$ an evasive tone, 
014:162,30[N  ]| it is just
014:162,31[N  ]| a little ~~ spiritual matter.
014:162,32[K  ]| ~~ O, 
014:162,32['  ]| said Mr*Kernan.
014:162,33['  ]| There was silence again. Then Mr*Power said, point-blank:
014:162,34[L  ]| ~~ To$9$ tell you the truth, Tom, we are going to$9$ make a retreat.
014:163,01[N  ]| ~~ Yes, that$6#2$ is it, 
014:163,01['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:163,01[N  ]| Jack and I and M'Coy
014:163,02[N  ]| here ~~  we are all going to$9$ wash the pot.
014:163,03['  ]| He uttered the metaphor with a certain homely energy
014:163,04['  ]| and, encouraged by$4$ his own voice, proceeded:
014:163,05[N  ]| ~~ You see, we may as well all admit we are a nice collection
014:163,06[N  ]| of scoundrels, one and all. I say, one and all, 
014:163,06['  ]| he added with
014:163,07['  ]| gruff charity and turning to$4$ Mr*Power. 
014:163,07[N  ]| Own up$5$ now!
014:163,08[L  ]| ~~ I own up$5$, 
014:163,08['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:163,09[O  ]| ~~ And I own up$5$, 
014:163,09['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:163,10[N  ]| ~~ So$3$ we are going to$9$ wash the pot together, 
014:163,10['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:163,11['  ]| A thought seemed to$9$ strike him. He turned suddenly to$4$
014:163,12['  ]| the invalid and said:
014:163,13[N  ]| ~~ Do you know what, Tom, has just occurred to$4$ me? You
014:163,14[N  ]| might join in$5$ and we would have a four-handed reel.
014:163,15[L  ]| ~~ Good idea, 
014:163,15['  ]| said Mr*Power. 
014:163,15[L  ]| The four of us together.
014:163,16['  ]| Mr*Kernan was silent. The proposal conveyed very little
014:163,17['  ]| meaning to$4$ his mind but, understanding that$3$ some spiritual
014:163,18['  ]| agencies were about to$9$ concern themselves on$4$ his behalf, he
014:163,19['  ]| thought he owed it to$4$ his dignity to$9$ show a stiff neck. He took
014:163,20['  ]| no$2$ part in$4$ the conversation for$4$ a long while but listened, with
014:163,21['  ]| an air of calm enmity, while his friends discussed the Jesuits.
014:163,22[K  ]| ~~ I have not such a bad opinion of the Jesuits, 
014:163,22['  ]| he said, intervening
014:163,23['  ]| at length. 
014:163,23[K  ]| They are an educated order. I believe they
014:163,24[K  ]| mean well too.
014:163,25[N  ]| ~~ They are the grandest order in$4$ the Church, Tom, 
014:163,25['  ]| said
014:163,26['  ]| Mr*Cunningham, with enthusiasm. 
014:163,26[N  ]| The General of the Jesuits
014:163,27[N  ]| stands next to$4$ the Pope.
014:163,28[O  ]| ~~ There is no$2$ mistake about it, 
014:163,28['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:163,28[O  ]| if you want a
014:163,29[O  ]| thing well done and no$2$ flies about it you go to$4$ a Jesuit. They are
014:163,30[O  ]| the boyos have influence. I will$1$ tell you a case in$4$ point ~~
014:163,31[L  ]| ~~ The Jesuits are a fine body of men, 
014:163,31['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:163,32[N  ]| ~~ It is a curious thing, 
014:163,32['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:163,32[N  ]| about the
014:163,33[N  ]| Jesuit Order. Every other order of the Church had to$9$ be
014:164,01[N  ]| reformed at some time or other but the Jesuit Order was never
014:164,02[N  ]| once reformed. It never fell away.
014:164,03[O  ]| ~~ Is that$6#2$ so$5#2$? 
014:164,03['  ]| asked Mr*M'Coy.
014:164,04[N  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is a fact, 
014:164,04['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham. 
014:164,04[N  ]| That$6#2$ is history.
014:164,05[L  ]| ~~ Look at their church, too, 
014:164,05['  ]| said Mr*Power. 
014:164,05[L  ]| Look at the
014:164,06[L  ]| congregation they have.
014:164,07[O  ]| ~~ The Jesuits cater for$4$ the upper classes, 
014:164,07['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:164,08[L  ]| ~~ Of course, 
014:164,08['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:164,09[K  ]| ~~ Yes, 
014:164,09['  ]| said Mr*Kernan. 
014:164,09[K  ]| That$6#2$ is why I have a feeling for$4$
014:164,10[K  ]| them. It is some of those secular priests, ignorant, bumptious ~~ 
014:164,11[N  ]| ~~ They are all good men, 
014:164,11['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:164,11[N  ]| each in$4$ his
014:164,12[N  ]| own way. The Irish priesthood is honoured all the world over.
014:164,13[L  ]| ~~ O yes, 
014:164,13['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:164,14[O  ]| ~~ Not like$4$ some of the other priesthoods on$4$ the continent,
014:164,15['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:164,15[O  ]| unworthy of the name.
014:164,16[K  ]| ~~ Perhaps you are right, 
014:164,16['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, relenting.
014:164,17[N  ]| ~~ Of course I am right, 
014:164,17['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham. I have not been
014:164,18[N  ]| in$4$ the world all this time and seen most sides of it without
014:164,19[N  ]| being a judge of character.
014:164,20['  ]| The gentlemen drank again, one following another's example.
014:164,21['  ]| Mr*Kernan seemed to$9$ be weighing something in$4$ his
014:164,22['  ]| mind. He was impressed. He had a high opinion of Mr*Cunningham
014:164,23['  ]| as a judge of character and as a reader of faces. He
014:164,24['  ]| asked for$4$ particulars.
014:164,25[N  ]| ~~ O, it is just a retreat, you know, 
014:164,25['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:164,26[N  ]| Father*Purdon is giving it. It is for$4$ business men, you know.
014:164,27[L  ]| ~~ He will$1$ not be too hard on$4$ us, Tom, 
014:164,27['  ]| said Mr*Power persuasively.
014:164,28[K  ]| ~~ Father*Purdon? Father*Purdon? 
014L164,28['  ]| said the invalid.
014:164,29[N  ]| ~~ O, you must know him, Tom, 
014:164,29['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham,
014:164,30['  ]| stoutly. 
014:164,30[N  ]| Fine jolly fellow! He is a man of the world like$4$ ourselves.
014:164,31[K  ]| ~~ Ah, ~~ yes. I think I know him. Rather red face; tall.
014:165,01[N  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is the man.
014:165,02[K  ]| ~~ And tell me, Martin ~~ Is he a good preacher?
014:165,03[N  ]| ~~ Mmmno ~~ It is not exactly a sermon, you know. It is just
014:165,04[N  ]| a kind of a friendly talk, you know, in$4$ a common-sense way.
014:165,05['  ]| Mr*Kernan deliberated. Mr*M'Coy said:
014:165,06[O  ]| ~~ Father*Tom*Burke, that$6#2$ was the boy!
014:165,07[N  ]| ~~ O, Father*Tom*Burke, 
014:165,07['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:165,07[N  ]| that$6#2$ was a
014:165,08[N  ]| born orator. Did you ever hear him, Tom?
014:165,09[K  ]| ~~ Did I ever hear him! 
014:164,09['  ]| said the invalid, nettled. 
014:164,09[K  ]| Rather!
014:165,10[K  ]| I heard him ~~
014:165,11[N  ]| ~~ And yet they say he was not much of a theologian, 
014:165,11['  ]| said
014:165,12['  ]| Mr*Cunningham.
014:165,13[O  ]| ~~ Is that$6#2$ so$5#2$? 
014:165,13['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:165,14[N  ]| ~~ O, of course, nothing wrong, you know. Only sometimes,
014:165,15[N  ]| they say, he did not preach what was quite orthodox.
014:165,16[O  ]| ~~ Ah! ~~ he was a splendid man, 
014:165,16['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:165,17[K  ]| ~~ I heard him once, 
014:165,17['  ]| Mr*Kernan continued. 
014:165,17[K  ]| I forget the
014:165,18[K  ]| subject of his discourse now. Crofton and I were in$4$ the back
014:165,19[K  ]| of the ~~ pit, you know ~~ the ~~ 
014:165,20[N  ]| ~~ The body, 
014:165,20['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:165,21[K  ]| ~~ Yes, in$4$ the back near the door. I forget now what ~~
014:165,22[K  ]| O yes, it was on$4$ the Pope, the late Pope. I remember it well.
014:165,23[K  ]| Upon$4$ my word it was magnificent, the style of the oratory.
014:165,24[K  ]| And his voice! God! had not he a voice! \The\ \Prisoner\ \of\ \the\
014:165,25[K  ]| \Vatican\, he called him. I remember Crofton saying to$4$ me
014:165,26[K  ]| when we came out ~~ 
014:165,27[L  ]| ~~ But he is an Orangeman, Crofton, is not he? 
014:165,27['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:165,28[K  ]| ~~ 'Course he is, 
014:165,28['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, 
014:165,28[K  ]| and a damned decent Orangeman
014:165,29[K  ]| too. We went into Butler's in$4$ Moore*Street ~~  faith, I was
014:165,30[K  ]| genuinely moved, tell you the God's truth ~~  and I remember
014:165,31[K  ]| well his very words. 
014:165,31@t   | \Kernan\, 
014:165,31[K  ]| he said, 
014:165,31@t   |\we\ \worship\ \at\ \different\
014:165,32@t   | \altars\, 
014:165,32[K  ]| he said, 
014:165,32@t   | \but\ \our\ \belief\ \is\ \the\ \same\. 
014:165,32[K  ]| Struck me as very well
014:165,33[K  ]| put.
014:165,34[L  ]| ~~ There is a good deal in$4$ that$6#2$, 
014:165,34['  ]| said Mr*Power. 
014:165,34[L  ]| There used
014:166,01[L  ]| always be crowds of Protestants in$4$ the chapel when Father*Tom
014:166,02[L  ]| was preaching.
014:166,03[O  ]| ~~ There is not much difference between us, 
014:166,03['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:166,04[O  ]| We both believe in$4$ ~~ 
014:166,05['  ]| He hesitated for$4$ a moment.
014:166,06[O  ]| ~~ in$4$ the Redeemer. Only they do not believe in$4$ the
014:166,07[O  ]| Pope and in$4$ the mother of God.
014:166,08[N  ]| ~~ But, of course, 
014:166,08['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham quietly and effectively,
014:166,09[N  ]| our religion is \the\ religion, the old, original faith.
014:166,10[K  ]| ~~ Not a doubt of it, said Mr*Kernan warmly.
014:166,11['  ]| Mrs*Kernan came to$4$ the door of the bedroom and announced:
014:166,12[M  ]| ~~ Here is a visitor for$4$ you!
014:166,13[X  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is it?
014:166,14[M  ]| ~~ Mr*Fogarty.
014:166,15[X  ]| ~~ O, come in$5$! come in$5$!
014:166,16['  ]| A pale oval face came forward into the light. The arch of its
014:166,17['  ]| fair trailing moustache was repeated in$4$ the fair eyebrows
014:166,18['  ]| looped above pleasantly astonished eyes. Mr*Fogarty was a
014:166,19['  ]| modest grocer. He had failed in$4$ business in$4$ a licensed house in$4$
014:166,20['  ]| the city because his financial condition had constrained him
014:166,21['  ]| to$9$ tie himself to$4$ second-class distillers and brewers. He had
014:166,22['  ]| opened a small shop on$4$ Glasnevin*Road where, he flattered
014:166,23['  ]| himself, his manners would ingratiate him with the housewives
014:166,24['  ]| of the district. He bore himself with a certain grace, complimented
014:166,25['  ]| little children and spoke with a neat enunciation. He
014:166,26['  ]| was not without culture.
014:166,27['  ]| Mr*Fogarty brought a gift with him, a half-pint of special
014:166,28['  ]| whisky. He inquired politely for$4$ Mr*Kernan, placed his gift
014:166,29['  ]| on$4$ the table and sat down with the company on$4$ equal terms.
014:166,30['  ]| Mr*Kernan appreciated the gift all the more since he was
014:166,31['  ]| aware that$3$ there was a small account for$4$ groceries unsettled
014:166,32['  ]| between him and Mr*Fogarty. He said:
014:166,33[K  ]| ~~ I would not doubt you, old man. Open that$6#2$, Jack, will$1$ you?
014:167,01['  ]| Mr*Power again officiated. Glasses were rinsed and five
014:167,02['  ]| small measures of whisky were poured out. This new influence
014:167,03['  ]| enlivened the conversation. Mr*Fogarty, sitting on$4$ a
014:167,04['  ]| small area of the chair, was specially interested.
014:167,04[N  ]| ~~ Pope*Leo*XIII%, 
014:167,04['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:167,04[N  ]| was one of the
014:167,06[N  ]| lights of the age. His great idea, you know, was the union of
014:167,07[N  ]| the Latin and Greek Churches. That$6#2$ was the aim of his life.
014:167,08[L  ]| ~~ I often heard he was one of the most intellectual men in$4$
014:167,09[L  ]| Europe, 
014:167,09['  ]| said Mr*Power. 
014:167,09[L  ]| I mean apart from his being Pope.
014:167,10[N  ]| ~~ So$5#2$ he was, 
014:167,10['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:167,10[N  ]| if not \the\ most so$5#2$. His
014:167,11[N  ]| motto, you know, as Pope, was \Lux\ \upon$4$\ \Lux\ ~~  \Light\ \upon$4$\
014:167,12[N  ]| \Light\.
014:167,13[P  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$, 
014:167,13['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty eagerly. 
014:167,13[P  ]| I think you are wrong
014:167,14[P  ]| there. It was \7Lux\ \7in\ \7Tenebris\, I think ~~  \Light\ \in$4$\ \Darkness\.
014:167,15[O  ]| ~~ O, yes, 
014:167,15['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:167,15[O  ]| \Tenebrae\.
014:167,16[N  ]| ~~ Allow me, 
014:167,16['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham positively, 
014:167,16[N  ]| it was \7Lux\
014:167,17[N  ]| \upon$4$\ \7Lux\. And Pius IX. his predecessor's motto was \7Crux\
014:167,18[N  ]| \upon$4$\ \7Crux\ ~~  that$6#2$ is, \Cross\ \upon$4$\ \Cross\ ~~  to$9$ show the difference
014:167,19[N  ]| between their two pontificates.
014:167,20['  ]| The inference was allowed. Mr*Cunningham continued.
014:167,21[N  ]| ~~ Pope*Leo, you know, was a great scholar and a poet.
014:167,22[K  ]| ~~ He had a strong face, 
014:167,22['  ]| said Mr*Kernan.
014:167,23[N  ]| ~~ Yes, 
014:167,23['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham. 
014:167,23[N  ]| He wrote Latin poetry.
014:167,24[P  ]| ~~ Is that$6#2$ so$5#2$? 
014:167,24['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty.
014:167,25['  ]| Mr*M'Coy tasted his whisky contentedly and shook his
014:167,26['  ]| head with a double intention, saying:
014:167,27[O  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is no$2$ joke, I can tell you.
014:167,28[L  ]| ~~ We did not learn that$6#2$, Tom, 
014:167,28['  ]| said Mr*Power, following Mr*M'Coy's 
014:167,29['  ]| example, 
014:167,29[L  ]| when we went to$4$ the penny-a-week school.
014:167,30[K  ]| ~~ There was many a good man went to$4$ the penny-a-week
014:167,31[K  ]| school with a sod of turf under his oxter, 
014:167,31['  ]| said Mr*Kernan sententiously.
014:167,32[K  ]| The old system was the best: plain honest education.
014:167,33[K  ]| None of your modern trumpery ~~
014:168,01[L  ]| ~~ Quite right, 
014:168,01['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:168,02[P  ]| ~~ No$2$ superfluities, 
014:168,02['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty.
014:168,03['  ]| He enunciated the word and then drank gravely.
014:168,04[N  ]| ~~ I remember reading, 
014:168,04['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:168,04[N  ]| that$3$ one of
014:168,05[N  ]| Pope*Leo's poems was on$4$ the invention of the photograph ~~  in$4$
014:168,06[N  ]| Latin, of course.
014:168,07[K  ]| ~~ On$4$ the photograph! 
014:168,07['  ]| exclaimed Mr*Kernan.
014:168,08[N  ]| ~~ Yes, 
014:168,08['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:168,09['  ]| He also drank from his glass.
014:168,10[O  ]| ~~ Well, you know, 
014:168,10['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:168,10[O  ]| is not the photograph
014:168,11[O  ]| wonderful when you come to$9$ think of it?
014:168,12[L  ]| ~~ O, of course, 
014:168,12['  ]| said Mr*Power, 
014:168,12[L  ]| great minds can see
014:168,13[L  ]| things.
014:168,14[P  ]| ~~ As the poet says: \Great\ \minds\ \are\ \very\ \near\ \to$4$\ \madness\,
014:168,15['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty.
014:168,16['  ]| Mr*Kernan seemed to$9$ be troubled in$4$ mind. He made an
014:168,17['  ]| effort to$9$ recall the Protestant theology on$4$ some thorny points
014:168,18['  ]| and in$4$ the end addressed Mr*Cunningham.
014:168,19[K  ]| ~~ Tell me, Martin, 
014:168,19['  ]| he said. 
014;168,19[K  ]| Were not some of the Popes ~~  of
014:168,20[K  ]| course, not our present man, or his predecessor, but some of
014:168,21[K  ]| the old Popes ~~  not exactly ~~ you know ~~ up$5$ to$4$ the
014:168,22[K  ]| knocker?
014:168,23['  ]| There was a silence. Mr*Cunningham said:
014:168,24[N  ]| ~~ O, of course, there were some bad lots ~~. But the
014:168,25[N  ]| astonishing thing is this. Not one of them, not the biggest
014:168,26[N  ]| drunkard, not the most ~~ out-and-out ruffian, not one of
014:168,27[N  ]| them ever preached \ex\ \cathedra\ a word of false doctrine. Now
014:168,28[N  ]| is not that$6#2$ an astonishing thing?
014:168,29[K  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is, 
014:168,29['  ]| said Mr*Kernan.
014:168,30[P  ]| ~~ Yes, because when the Pope speaks \ex\ \cathedra\, 
014:168,30['  ]| Mr*Fogarty 
014:168,31['  ]| explained, 
014:168,31[P  ]| he is infallible.
014:168,32[N  ]| ~~ Yes, 
014:168,32['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:168,33[P  ]| ~~ O, I know about the infallibility of the Pope. I remember
014:168,34[P  ]| I was younger then ~~ Or was it that$6#2$ ~~  ?
014:169,01['  ]| Mr*Fogarty interrupted. He took up$5$ the bottle and helped
014:169,02['  ]| the others to$4$ a little more. Mr*M'Coy, seeing that$3$ there was not
014:169,03['  ]| enough to$9$ go round, pleaded that$3$ he had not finished his first
014:169,04['  ]| measure. The others accepted under protest. The light music
014:169,05['  ]| of whisky falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.
014:169,06[O  ]| ~~ What is that$6#2$ you were saying, Tom? 
014:169,06['  ]| asked Mr*M'Coy.
014:169,07[N  ]| ~~ Papal infallibility, 
014:169,07['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:169,07[N  ]| that$6#2$ was the
014:169,08[N  ]| greatest scene in$4$ the whole history of the Church.
014:169,09[L  ]| ~~ How was that$6#2$, Martin? 
014:169,09['  ]| asked Mr*Power.
014:169,10['  ]| Mr*Cunningham held up$5$ two thick fingers.
014:169,11[N  ]| ~~ In$4$ the sacred college, you know, of cardinals and archbishops
014:169,12[N  ]| and bishops there were two men who$6#1$ held out against
014:169,13[N  ]| it while the others were all for$4$ it. The whole conclave except
014:169,14[N  ]| these two was unanimous. No$7$! They would not have it!
014:169,15[O  ]| ~~ Ha! 
014:169,15['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy.
014:169,16[N  ]| ~~ And they were a German cardinal by$4$ the name of Dolling ~~
014:169,17[N  ]| or Dowling ~~ or ~~ 
014:169,18[L  ]| ~~ Dowling was no$2$ German, and that$6#2$ is a sure five, 
014:169,18['  ]| said Mr*Power, 
014:169,19['  ]| laughing.
014:169,20[N  ]| ~~ Well, this great German cardinal, whatever his name was,
014:169,21[N  ]| was one; and the other was John*MacHale.
014:169,22[K  ]| ~~ What? 
014:169,22['  ]| cried Mr*Kernan. 
014:169,22[K  ]| Is it John of Tuam?
014:169,23[P  ]| ~~ Are you sure of that$6#2$ now? 
014:169,23['  ]| asked Mr*Fogarty dubiously.
014:169,24[P  ]| I thought it was some Italian or American.
014:169,25[N  ]| ~~ John of Tuam, 
014:169,25['  ]| repeated Mr*Cunningham, 
014:169,25[N  ]| was the man.
014:169,26['  ]| He drank and the other gentlemen followed his lead. Then
014:169,27['  ]| he resumed:
014:169,28[N  ]| ~~ There they were at it, all the cardinals and bishops and
014:169,29[N  ]| archbishops from all the ends of the earth and these two fighting
014:169,30[N  ]| dog and devil until at last the Pope himself stood up$5$ and
014:169,31[N  ]| declared infallibility a dogma of the Church \ex\ \cathedra\. On$4$
014:169,32[N  ]| the very moment John*MacHale, who$6#1$ had been arguing and
014:169,33[N  ]| arguing against it, stood up$5$ and shouted out with the voice of
014:169,34[N  ]| a lion: \Credo\!
014:170,01[P  ]| ~~ \I\ \believe\! 
014:170,01['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty.
014:170,02[N  ]| ~~ \Credo\! 
014:170,02['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham. 
014:170,02[N  ]| That$6#2$ showed the faith he
014:170,03[N  ]| had. He submitted the moment the Pope spoke.
014:170,04[O  ]| ~~ And what about Dowling? 
014:170,04['  ]| asked Mr*M'Coy.
014:170,05[N  ]| ~~ The German cardinal would not submit. He left the Church.
014:170,06['  ]| Mr*Cunningham's words had built up$5$ the vast image of the
014:170,07['  ]| Church in$4$ the minds of his hearers. His deep raucous voice
014:170,08['  ]| had thrilled them as it uttered the word of belief and submission.
014:170,09['  ]| When Mrs*Kernan came into the room drying her hands
014:170,10['  ]| she came into a solemn company. She did not disturb the silence,
014:170,11['  ]| but leaned over the rail at the foot of the bed.
014:170,12[K  ]| ~~ I once saw John*MacHale, 
014:170,12['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, 
014:170,12[K  ]| and I will$1$ never
014:170,13[K  ]| forget it as long as I live.
014:170,14['  ]| He turned towards his wife to$9$ be confirmed.
014:170,15[K  ]| ~~ I often told you that$6#2$?
014:170,16['  ]| Mrs*Kernan nodded.
014:170,17[K  ]| ~~ It was at the unveiling of Sir John Gray's statue. Edmund
014:170,18[K  ]| Dwyer Gray was speaking, blathering away, and here was
014:170,19[K  ]| this old fellow, crabbed-looking old chap, looking at him from
014:170,20[K  ]| under his bushy eyebrows.
014:170,21['  ]| Mr*Kernan knitted his brows and, lowering his head like$4$ an
014:170,22['  ]| angry bull, glared at his wife.
014:170,23[K  ]| ~~ God! 
014:170,23['  ]| he exclaimed, resuming his natural face, 
014:170,23[K  ]| I never
014:170,24[K  ]| saw such an eye in$4$ a man's head. It was as much as to$9$ say: \I\
014:170,25[K  ]| \have\ \you\ \properly\ \taped\, \my\ \lad\. He had an eye like$4$ a hawk.
014:170,26[L  ]| ~~ None of the Grays was any good, 
014:170,26['  ]| said Mr*Power.
014:170,27['  ]| There was a pause again. Mr*Power turned to$4$ Mrs*Kernan
014:170,28['  ]| and said with abrupt joviality:
014:170,29[L  ]| ~~ Well, Mrs*Kernan, we are going to$9$ make your man here a
014:170,30[L  ]| good holy pious and God-fearing Roman Catholic.
014:170,31['  ]| He swept his arm round the company inclusively.
014:170,32[L  ]| ~~ We are all going to$9$ make a retreat together and confess
014:170,33[L  ]| our sins ~~  and God knows we want it badly.
014:171,01[K  ]| ~~ I do not mind, 
014:171,01['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, smiling a little nervously.
014:171,02['  ]| Mrs*Kernan thought it would be wiser to$9$ conceal her satisfaction.
014:171,03['  ]| So$3$ she said:
014:171,04[M  ]| ~~ I pity the poor priest that$6#1$ has to$9$ listen to$4$ your tale.
014:171,05['  ]| Mr*Kernan's expression changed.
014:171,06[K  ]| ~~ If he does not like$1$ it, 
014:171,06['  ]| he said bluntly, 
014:171,06[K  ]| he can ~~ do the
014:171,07[K  ]| other thing. I will$1$ just tell him my little tale of woe. I am not such
014:171,08[K  ]| a bad fellow ~~ 
014:171,09['  ]| Mr*Cunningham intervened promptly.
014:171,10[N  ]| ~~ We will$1$ all renounce the devil, 
014:171,10['  ]| he said, 
014:171,10[N  ]| together, not forgetting
014:171,11[N  ]| his works and pomps.
014:171,12[P  ]| ~~ Get behind me, Satan! 
014:171,12['  ]| said Mr*Fogarty, laughing and
014:171,13['  ]| looking at the others.
014:171,14['  ]| Mr*Power said nothing. He felt completely outgeneralled.
014:171,15['  ]| But a pleased expression flickered across his face.
014:171,16[N  ]| ~~ All we have to$9$ do, 
014:171,16['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham, 
014:171,16[N  ]| is to$9$ stand up$5$
014:171,17[N  ]| with lighted candles in$4$ our hands and renew our baptismal
014:171,18[N  ]| vows.
014:171,19[O  ]| ~~ O, do not forget the candle, Tom, 
014:171,19['  ]| said Mr*M'Coy, 
014:171,19[O  ]| whatever
014:171,20[O  ]| you do.
014:171,21[K  ]| ~~ What? 
014:171,21['  ]| said Mr*Kernan. 
014:171,21[K  ]| Must I have a candle?
014:171,22[N  ]| ~~ O yes, 
014:171,22['  ]| said Mr*Cunningham.
014:171,23[K  ]| ~~ No$7$, damn it all, 
014:171,23['  ]| said Mr*Kernan sensibly, 
014:171,23[K  ]| I draw the line
014:171,24[K  ]| there. I will$1$ do the job right enough. I will$1$ do the retreat business
014:171,25[K  ]| and confession, and ~~ all that$6#2$ business. But ~~ no$2$ candles!
014:171,26[K  ]| No$7$, damn it all, I bar the candles!
014:171,27['  ]| He shook his head with farcical gravity.
014:171,28[M  ]| ~~ Listen to$4$ that$6#2$, 
014:171,28['  ]| said his wife.
014:171,29[K  ]| ~~ I bar the candles, 
014:171,29['  ]| said Mr*Kernan, conscious of having
014:171,30['  ]| created an effect on$4$ his audience and continuing to$9$ shake his
014:171,31['  ]| head to$8$ and fro. I bar the magic-lantern business.
014:171,32['  ]| Everyone laughed heartily.
014:171,33[M  ]| ~~ There is a nice Catholic for$4$ you! 
014:171,33['  ]| said his wife.
014:172,01[K  ]| ~~ No$2$ candles! 
014:172,01['  ]| repeated Mr*Kernan obdurately. 
014:172,01[K  ]| That$6#2$ is off!
014:172,02['  ]| ~~
014:172,03['  ]| The transept of the Jesuit*Church in$4$ Gardiner*Street was
014:172,04['  ]| almost full; and still at every moment gentlemen entered from
014:172,05['  ]| the side-door and, directed by$4$ the lay-brother, walked on$4$ tip-toe
014:172,06['  ]| along the aisles until they found seating accommodation.
014:172,07['  ]| The gentlemen were all well dressed and orderly. The light
014:172,08['  ]| of the lamps of the church fell upon$4$ an assembly of black
014:172,09['  ]| clothes and white collars, relieved here and there by$4$ tweeds,
014:172,10['  ]| on$4$ dark mottled pillars of green marble and on$4$ lugubrious
014:172,11['  ]| canvasses. The gentlemen sat in$4$ the benches, having hitched
014:172,12['  ]| their trousers slightly above their knees and laid their hats
014:172,13['  ]| in$4$ security. They sat well back and gazed formally at the distant
014:172,14['  ]| speck of red light which$6#1$ was suspended before the high
014:172,15['  ]| altar.
014:172,16['  ]| In$4$ one of the benches near the pulpit sat Mr*Cunningham
014:172,17['  ]| and Mr*Kernan. In$4$ the bench behind sat Mr*M'Coy alone: and
014:172,18['  ]| in$4$ the bench behind him sat Mr*Power and Mr*Fogarty. Mr*M'Coy 
014:172,19['  ]| had tried unsuccessfully to$9$ find a place in$4$ the bench
014:172,20['  ]| with the others and, when the party had settled down in$4$ the
014:172,21['  ]| form of a quincunx, he had tried unsuccessfully to$9$ make comic
014:172,22['  ]| remarks. As these had not been well received he had desisted.
014:172,23['  ]| Even he was sensible of the decorous atmosphere and even
014:172,24['  ]| he began to$9$ respond to$4$ the religious stimulus. In$4$ a whisper
014:172,25['  ]| Mr*Cunningham drew Mr*Kernan's attention to$4$ Mr*Harford,
014:172,26['  ]| the moneylender, who$6#1$ sat some distance off, and to$4$ Mr*Fanning,
014:172,27['  ]| the registration agent and mayor maker of the city, who$6#1$
014:172,28['  ]| was sitting immediately under the pulpit beside one of the
014:172,29['  ]| newly elected councillors of the ward. To$4$ the right sat old
014:172,30['  ]| Michael*Grimes, the owner of three pawnbroker's shops,
014:172,31['  ]| and Dan*Hogan's nephew, who$6#1$ was up$5$ for$4$ the job in$4$ the
014:172,32['  ]| Town*Clerk's office. Farther in$4$ front sat Mr*Hendrick, the
014:172,33['  ]| chief reporter of \The*Freeman's*Journal\, and poor O'Carroll,
014:172,34['  ]| an old friend of Mr*Kernan's, who$6#1$ had been at one time a considerable
014:173,01['  ]| commercial figure. Gradually, as he recognised familiar
014:173,02['  ]| faces, Mr*Kernan began to$9$ feel more at home. His hat,
014:173,03['  ]| which$6#1$ had been rehabilitated by$4$ his wife, rested upon$4$ his
014:173,04['  ]| knees. Once or twice he pulled down his cuffs with one hand
014:173,05['  ]| while he held the brim of his hat lightly, but firmly, with the
014:173,06['  ]| other hand.
014:173,07['  ]| A powerful-looking figure, the upper part of which$6#1$ was
014:173,08['  ]| draped with a white surplice, was observed to$9$ be struggling up$5$
014:173,09['  ]| into the pulpit. Simultaneously the congregation unsettled,
014:173,10['  ]| produced handkerchiefs and knelt upon$4$ them with care. Mr*Kernan 
014:173,11['  ]| followed the general example. The priest's figure now
014:173,12['  ]| stood upright in$4$ the pulpit, two-thirds of its bulk, crowned by$4$
014:173,13['  ]| a massive red face, appearing above the balustrade.
014:173,14['  ]| Father*Purdon knelt down, turned towards the red speck
014:173,15['  ]| of light and, covering his face with his hands, prayed. After
014:173,16['  ]| an interval he uncovered his face and rose. The congregation
014:173,17['  ]| rose also and settled again on$4$ its benches. Mr*Kernan restored
014:173,18['  ]| his hat to$4$ its original position on$4$ his knee and presented an
014:173,19['  ]| attentive face to$4$ the preacher. The preacher turned back each
014:173,20['  ]| wide sleeve of his surplice with an elaborate large gesture and
014:173,21['  ]| slowly surveyed the array of faces. Then he said:
014:173,22[Q  ]| \For$3$ the children of this world are wiser in$4$ their generation\
014:173,23[Q  ]| \than the children of light. Wherefore make unto yourselves\
014:173,24[Q  ]| \friends out of the mammon of iniquity so$3$ that$3$ when you die\
014:173,25[Q  ]| \they may receive you into everlasting dwellings\.
014:173,26['  ]| Father*Purdon developed the text with resonant assurance.
014:173,27['  ]| It was one of the most difficult texts in$4$ all the Scriptures, he
014:173,28['  ]| said, to$9$ interpret properly. It was a text which$6#1$ might seem to$4$
014:173,29['  ]| the casual observer at variance with the lofty morality elsewhere
014:173,30['  ]| preached by$4$ Jesus*Christ. But, he told his hearers, the
014:173,31['  ]| text had seemed to$4$ him specially adapted for$4$ the guidance of
014:173,32['  ]| those whose lot it was to$9$ lead the life of the world and who$6#1$ yet
014:173,33['  ]| wished to$9$ lead that$6#2$ life not in$4$ the manner of worldlings. It was
014:174,01['  ]| a text for$4$ business men and professional men. Jesus*Christ,
014:174,02['  ]| with His divine understanding of every cranny of our human
014:174,03['  ]| nature, understood that$3$ all men were not called to$4$ the religious
014:174,04['  ]| life, that$3$ by$4$ far the vast majority were forced to$9$ live in$4$ the
014:174,05['  ]| world and, to$4$ a certain extent, for$4$ the world: and in$4$ this sentence
014:174,06['  ]| He designed to$9$ give them a word of counsel, setting
014:174,07['  ]| before them as exemplars in$4$ the religious life those very worshippers
014:174,08['  ]| of Mammon who$6#1$ were of all men the least solicitous
014:174,09['  ]| in$4$ matters religious.
014:174,10['  ]| He told his hearers that$3$ he was there that$6#2$ evening for$4$ no$2$
014:174,11['  ]| terrifying, no$2$ extravagant purpose; but as a man of the world
014:174,12['  ]| speaking to$4$ his fellow-men. He came to$9$ speak to$4$ business men
014:174,13['  ]| and he would speak to$4$ them in$4$ a businesslike way. If he might
014:174,14['  ]| use the metaphor, he said, he was their spiritual accountant;
014:174,15['  ]| and he wished each and every one of his hearers to$9$ open his
014:174,16['  ]| books, the books of his spiritual life, and see if they tallied
014:174,17['  ]| accurately with conscience.
014:174,18['  ]| Jesus*Christ was not a hard taskmaster. He understood our
014:174,19['  ]| little failings, understood the weakness of our poor fallen nature,
014:174,20['  ]| understood the temptations of this life. We might have
014:174,21['  ]| had, we all had from time to$4$ time, our temptations: we might
014:174,22['  ]| have, we all had, our failings. But one thing only, he said, he
014:174,23['  ]| would ask of his hearers. And that$6#2$ was: to$9$ be straight and
014:174,24['  ]| manly with God. If their accounts tallied in$4$ every point to$9$
014:174,25['  ]| say:
014:174,26@x   | ~~ Well, I have verified my accounts. I find all well.
014:174,27['  ]| But if, as might happen, there were some discrepancies, to$9$
014:174,28['  ]| admit the truth, to$9$ be frank and say like$4$ a man:
014:174,29@x   | ~~ Well, I have looked into my accounts. I find this wrong
014:174,30@x   | and this wrong. But, with God's grace, I will$1$ rectify this and
014:174,31@x   | this. I will$1$ set right my accounts.
015:175,01@@@@@|
015:175,01['  ]| <THE DEAD>
015:175,02['  ]| Lily, the caretaker's daughter, was literally run off her feet.
015:175,03['  ]| Hardly had she brought one gentleman into the little pantry
015:175,04['  ]| behind the office on$4$ the ground floor and helped him off with
015:175,05['  ]| his overcoat than the wheezy hall-door bell clanged again and
015:175,06['  ]| she had to$9$ scamper along the bare hallway to$9$ let in$4$ another
015:175,07['  ]| guest. It was well for$4$ her she had not to$9$ attend to$4$ the ladies
015:175,08['  ]| also. But Miss*Kate and Miss*Julia had thought of that$6#2$ and had
015:175,09['  ]| converted the bathroom upstairs into a ladies' dressing-room.
015:175,10['  ]| Miss*Kate and Miss*Julia were there, gossiping and laughing
015:175,11['  ]| and fussing, walking after each other to$4$ the head of the stairs,
015:175,12['  ]| peering down over the banisters and calling down to$4$ Lily to$9$ ask
015:175,13['  ]| her who$6#1$ had come.
015:175,14['  ]| It was always a great affair, the Misses*Morkan's annual
015:175,15['  ]| dance. Everybody who$6#1$ knew them came to$4$ it, members of
015:175,16['  ]| the family, old friends of the family, the members of Julia's
015:175,17['  ]| choir, any of Kate's pupils that$6#1$ were grown up$5$ enough and
015:175,18['  ]| even some of Mary*Jane's pupils too. Never once had it fallen
015:175,19['  ]| flat. For$4$ years and years it had gone off in$4$ splendid style as
015:176,01['  ]| long as anyone could remember; ever since Kate and Julia,
015:176,02['  ]| after the death of their brother Pat, had left the house in$4$
015:176,03['  ]| Stoney Batter and taken Mary*Jane, their only niece, to$9$ live
015:176,04['  ]| with them in$4$ the dark gaunt house on$4$ Usher's Island, the upper
015:176,05['  ]| part of which$6#1$ they had rented from Mr*Fulham, the corn-factor
015:176,06['  ]| on$4$ the ground floor. That$6#2$ was a good thirty years ago
015:176,07['  ]| if it was a day. Mary*Jane, who$6#1$ was then a little girl in$4$ short
015:176,08['  ]| clothes, was now the main prop of the household for$3$ she had
015:176,09['  ]| the organ in$4$ Haddington*Road. She had been through the
015:176,10['  ]| Academy and gave a pupils' concert every year in$4$ the upper
015:176,11['  ]| room of the Antient Concert Rooms. Many of her pupils belonged
015:176,12['  ]| to$4$ better-class families on$4$ the Kingstown and Dalkey
015:176,13['  ]| line. Old as they were, her aunts also did their share. Julia,
015:176,14['  ]| though she was quite grey, was still the leading soprano in$4$
015:176,15['  ]| Adam and Eve's, and Kate, being too feeble to$9$ go about
015:176,16['  ]| much, gave music lessons to$4$ beginners on$4$ the old square piano
015:176,17['  ]| in$4$ the back room. Lily, the caretaker's daughter, did housemaid's
015:176,18['  ]| work for$4$ them. Though their life was modest they
015:176,19['  ]| believed in$4$ eating well; the best of everything: diamond-bone
015:176,20['  ]| sirloins, three-shilling tea and the best bottled stout. But Lily
015:176,21['  ]| seldom made a mistake in$4$ the orders so$3$ that$3$ she got on$5$ well
015:176,22['  ]| with her three mistresses. They were fussy, that$6#2$ was all. But
015:176,23['  ]| the only thing they would not stand was back answers.
015:176,24['  ]| Of course they had good reason to$9$ be fussy on$4$ such a night.
015:176,25['  ]| And then it was long after ten o'clock and yet there was no$2$
015:176,26['  ]| sign of Gabriel and his wife. Besides they were dreadfully
015:176,27['  ]| afraid that$3$ Freddy*Malins might turn up$5$ screwed. They would
015:176,28['  ]| not wish for$4$ worlds that$3$ any of Mary*Jane's pupils should see
015:176,29['  ]| him under the influence; and when he was like$4$ that$6#2$ it was
015:176,30['  ]| sometimes very hard to$9$ manage him. Freddy*Malins always
015:176,31['  ]| came late but they wondered what could be keeping Gabriel:
015:176,32['  ]| and that$6#2$ was what brought them every two minutes to$4$
015:176,33['  ]| the banisters to$9$ ask Lily had Gabriel or Freddy come.
015:176,34[C  ]| ~~ O, Mr*Conroy, 
015:176,34['  ]| said Lily to$4$ Gabriel when she opened
015:177,01['  ]| the door for$4$ him, 
015:177,01[C  ]| Miss*Kate and Miss*Julia thought you were
015:177,02[C  ]| never coming. Good-night, Mrs*Conroy.
015:177,03[D  ]| ~~ I will$1$ engage they did, 
015:177,03['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:177,03[D  ]| but they forget that$3$
015:177,04[D  ]| my wife here takes three mortal hours to$9$ dress herself.
015:177,05['  ]| He stood on$4$ the mat, scraping the snow from his goloshes,
015:177,06['  ]| while Lily led his wife to$4$ the foot of the stairs and called
015:177,07['  ]| out:
015:177,08[C  ]| ~~ Miss*Kate, here is Mrs*Conroy.
015:177,09['  ]| Kate and Julia came toddling down the dark stairs at once.
015:177,10['  ]| Both of them kissed Gabriel's wife, said 
015:177,10@y   | she must be perished
015:177,11@y   | alive 
015:177,11['  ]| and asked 
015:177,11@y   | was Gabriel with her.
015:177,12[D  ]| ~~ Here I am as right as the mail, Aunt*Kate! Go on$5$ up$5$. I will$1$
015:177,13[D  ]| follow, 
015:177,13['  ]| called out Gabriel from the dark.
015:177,14['  ]| He continued scraping his feet vigorously while the three
015:177,15['  ]| women went upstairs, laughing, to$4$ the ladies' dressing-room.
015:177,16['  ]| A light fringe of snow lay like$4$ a cape on$4$ the shoulders of his
015:177,17['  ]| overcoat and like$4$ toecaps on$4$ the toes of his goloshes; and, as
015:177,18['  ]| the buttons of his overcoat slipped with a squeaking noise
015:177,19['  ]| through the snow-stiffened frieze, a cold fragrant air from
015:177,20['  ]| out-of-doors escaped from crevices and folds.
015:177,21[C  ]| ~~ Is it snowing again, Mr*Conroy? 
015:177,21['  ]| asked Lily.
015:177,22['  ]| She had preceded him into the pantry to$9$ help him off with
015:177,23['  ]| his overcoat. Gabriel smiled at the three syllables she had given
015:177,24['  ]| his surname and glanced at her. She was a slim, growing girl,
015:177,25['  ]| pale in$4$ complexion and with hay-coloured hair. The gas in$4$
015:177,26['  ]| the pantry made her look still paler. Gabriel had known her
015:177,27['  ]| when she was a child and used to$9$ sit on$4$ the lowest step nursing
015:177,28['  ]| a rag doll.
015:177,29[D  ]| ~~ Yes, Lily, 
015:177,29['  ]| he answered, 
015:177,29[D  ]| and I think we are in$5$ for$4$ a night
015:177,30[D  ]| of it.
015:177,31['  ]| He looked up$5$ at the pantry ceiling, which$6#1$ was shaking with
015:177,32['  ]| the stamping and shuffling of feet on$4$ the floor above, listened
015:177,33['  ]| for$4$ a moment to$4$ the piano and then glanced at the girl, who$6#1$
015:177,34['  ]| was folding his overcoat carefully at the end of a shelf.
015:178,01[D  ]| ~~ Tell me, Lily, 
015:178,01['  ]| he said in$4$ a friendly tone, 
015:178,01[D  ]| do you still go
015:178,02[D  ]| to$4$ school?
015:178,03[C  ]| ~~ O, no$7$, sir, 
015:178,03['  ]| she answered. 
015:178,03[C  ]| I am done schooling this year and
015:178,04[C  ]| more.
015:178,05[D  ]| ~~ O, then, 
015:178,05['  ]| said Gabriel gaily, 
015:178,05[D  ]| I suppose we will$1$ be going to$4$
015:178,06[D  ]| your wedding one of these fine days with your young man,
015:178,07[D  ]| eh?
015:178,08['  ]| The girl glanced back at him over her shoulder and said
015:178,09['  ]| with great bitterness:
015:178,10[C  ]| ~~ The men that$6#1$ is now is only all palaver and what they
015:178,11[C  ]| can get out of you.
015:178,12['  ]| Gabriel coloured as if he felt he had made a mistake and,
015:178,13['  ]| without looking at her, kicked off his goloshes and flicked
015:178,14['  ]| actively with his muffler at his patent-leather shoes.
015:178,15['  ]| He was a stout tallish young man. The high colour of his
015:178,16['  ]| cheeks pushed upwards even to$4$ his forehead where it scattered
015:178,17['  ]| itself in$4$ a few formless patches of pale red; and on$4$ his hairless
015:178,18['  ]| face there scintillated restlessly the polished lenses and the
015:178,19['  ]| bright gilt rims of the glasses which$6#1$ screened his delicate and
015:178,20['  ]| restless eyes. His glossy black hair was parted in$4$ the middle
015:178,21['  ]| and brushed in$4$ a long curve behind his ears where it curled
015:178,22['  ]| slightly beneath the groove left by$4$ his hat.
015:178,23['  ]| When he had flicked lustre into his shoes he stood up$5$ and
015:178,24['  ]| pulled his waistcoat down more tightly on$4$ his plump body.
015:178,25['  ]| Then he took a coin rapidly from his pocket.
015:178,26[D  ]| ~~ O, Lily, 
015:178,26['  ]| he said, thrusting it into her hands, 
015:178,26[D  ]| it is Christmas-time,
015:178,27[D  ]| is not it? Just ~~ here is a little. ~~
015:178,28['  ]| He walked rapidly towards the door.
015:178,29[C  ]| ~~ O no$7$, sir! 
015:178,29['  ]| cried the girl, following him. 
015:178,29[C  ]| Really, sir, I
015:178,30[C  ]| would not take it.
015:178,31[D  ]| ~~ Christmas-time! Christmas-time! 
015:178,31['  ]| said Gabriel, almost trotting
015:178,32['  ]| to$4$ the stairs and waving his hand to$4$ her in$4$ deprecation.
015:178,33['  ]| The girl, seeing that$3$ he had gained the stairs, called out after
015:178,34['  ]| him:
015:179,01[C  ]| ~~ Well, thank you, sir.
015:179,02['  ]| He waited outside the drawing-room door until the waltz
015:179,03['  ]| should finish, listening to$4$ the skirts that$6#1$ swept against it and
015:179,04['  ]| to$4$ the shuffling of feet. He was still discomposed by$4$ the girl's
015:179,05['  ]| bitter and sudden retort. It had cast a gloom over him which$6#1$
015:179,06['  ]| he tried to$9$ dispel by$4$ arranging his cuffs and the bows of his
015:179,07['  ]| tie. Then he took from his waistcoat pocket a little paper and
015:179,08['  ]| glanced at the headings he had made for$4$ his speech. He was
015:179,09['  ]| undecided about the lines from Robert*Browning for$3$ he feared
015:179,10['  ]| they would be above the heads of his hearers. Some quotation
015:179,11['  ]| that$6#1$ they could recognise from Shakespeare or from the
015:179,12['  ]| Melodies would be better. The indelicate clacking of the
015:179,13['  ]| men's heels and the shuffling of their soles reminded him that$3$
015:179,14['  ]| their grade of culture differed from his. He would only make
015:179,15['  ]| himself ridiculous by$4$ quoting poetry to$4$ them which$6#1$ they
015:179,16['  ]| could not understand. They would think that$3$ he was airing
015:179,17['  ]| his superior education. He would fail with them just as he had
015:179,18['  ]| failed with the girl in$4$ the pantry. He had taken up$5$ a wrong
015:179,19['  ]| tone. His whole speech was a mistake from first to$4$ last, an utter
015:179,20['  ]| failure.
015:179,21['  ]| Just then his aunts and his wife came out of the ladies'
015:179,22['  ]| dressing-room. His aunts were two small plainly dressed old
015:179,23['  ]| women. Aunt*Julia was an inch or so$5#2$ the taller. Her hair,
015:179,24['  ]| drawn low over the tops of her ears, was grey; and grey
015:179,25['  ]| also, with darker shadows, was her large flaccid face. Though
015:179,26['  ]| she was stout in$4$ build and stood erect her slow eyes and parted
015:179,27['  ]| lips gave her the appearance of a woman who$6#1$ did not know
015:179,28['  ]| where she was or where she was going. Aunt*Kate was more
015:179,29['  ]| vivacious. Her face, healthier than her sister's, was all puckers
015:179,30['  ]| and creases, like$4$ a shrivelled red apple, and her hair, braided
015:179,31['  ]| in$4$ the same old-fashioned way, had not lost its ripe nut colour.
015:179,32['  ]| They both kissed Gabriel frankly. He was their favourite
015:179,33['  ]| nephew, the son of their dead elder sister, Ellen, who$6#1$ had married
015:179,34['  ]| T%J%*Conroy of the Port and Docks.
015:180,01[F  ]| ~~ Gretta tells me you are not going to$9$ take a cab back to$4$
015:180,02[F  ]| Monkstown to-night, Gabriel, 
015:180,02['  ]| said Aunt*Kate.
015:180,03[D  ]| ~~ No$7$, 
015:180,03['  ]| said Gabriel, turning to$4$ his wife, 
015:180,03[D  ]| we had quite
015:180,04[D  ]| enough of that$6#2$ last year, had not we? Do not you remember, Aunt
015:180,05[D  ]| Kate, what a cold Gretta got out of it? Cab windows rattling
015:180,06[D  ]| all the way, and the east wind blowing in$5$ after we passed Merrion.
015:180,07[D  ]| Very jolly it was. Gretta caught a dreadful cold.
015:180,08['  ]| Aunt*Kate frowned severely and nodded her head at every
015:180,09['  ]| word.
015:180,10[F  ]| ~~ Quite right, Gabriel, quite right, 
015:180,10['  ]| she said. 
015:180,10[F  ]| You can not be
015:180,11[F  ]| too careful.
015:180,12[D  ]| ~~ But as for$4$ Gretta there, 
015:180,12['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:180,12[D  ]| she would walk home in$4$
015:180,13[D  ]| the snow if she were let.
015:180,14['  ]| Mrs*Conroy laughed.
015:180,15[E  ]| ~~ Do not mind him, Aunt*Kate, 
015:180,15['  ]| she said. 
015:180,15[E  ]| He is really an awful
015:180,16[E  ]| bother, what with green shades for$4$ Tom's eyes at night and
015:180,17[E  ]| making him do the dumb-bells, and forcing Eva to$9$ eat the
015:180,18[E  ]| stirabout. The poor child! And she simply hates the sight of
015:180,19[E  ]| it! ~~ O, but you will$1$ never guess what he makes me wear
015:180,20[E  ]| now!
015:180,21['  ]| She broke out into a peal of laughter and glanced at her
015:180,22['  ]| husband, whose admiring and happy eyes had been wandering
015:180,23['  ]| from her dress to$4$ her face and hair. The two aunts
015:180,24['  ]| laughed heartily too, for$4$ Gabriel's solicitude was a standing
015:180,25['  ]| joke with them.
015:180,26[E  ]| ~~ Goloshes! 
015:180,26['  ]| said Mrs*Conroy. 
015:180,26[E  ]| That$6#2$ is the latest. Whenever
015:180,27[E  ]| it is wet underfoot I must put on$5$ my goloshes. To-night even
015:180,28[E  ]| he wanted me to$9$ put them on$5$, but I would not. The next thing
015:180,29[E  ]| he will$1$ buy me will$1$ be a diving suit.
015:180,30['  ]| Gabriel laughed nervously and patted his tie reassuringly
015:180,31['  ]| while Aunt*Kate nearly doubled herself, so$5#1$ heartily did she
015:180,32['  ]| enjoy the joke. The smile soon faded from Aunt*Julia's face
015:180,33['  ]| and her mirthless eyes were directed towards her nephew's
015:180,34['  ]| face. After a pause she asked:
015:181,01[G  ]| ~~ And what are goloshes, Gabriel?
015:181,02[F  ]| ~~ Goloshes, Julia! 
015:181,02['  ]| exclaimed her sister. 
015:181,02[F  ]| Goodness me, do not
015:181,03[F  ]| you know what goloshes are? You wear them over your ~~
015:181,04[F  ]| over your boots, Gretta, is not it?
015:181,05[E  ]| ~~ Yes, 
015:181,05['  ]| said Mrs*Conroy. 
015:181,05[E  ]| Guttapercha things. We both have a
015:181,06[E  ]| pair now. Gabriel says everyone wears them on$4$ the continent.
015:181,07[G  ]| ~~ O, on$4$ the continent, 
015:181,07['  ]| murmured Aunt*Julia, nodding her
015:181,08['  ]| head slowly.
015:181,09['  ]| Gabriel knitted his brows and said, as if he were slightly angered:
015:181,10[D  ]| ~~ It is nothing very wonderful but Gretta thinks it very
015:181,11[D  ]| funny because she says the word reminds her of Christy Minstrels.
015:181,12[F  ]| ~~ But tell me, Gabriel, 
015:181,12['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, with brisk tact. 
015:181,12[F  ]| Of
015:181,13[F  ]| course, you have seen about the room. Gretta was saying. ~~
015:181,14[D  ]| ~~ O, the room is all right, 
015:181,14['  ]| replied Gabriel. 
015:181,14[D  ]| I have taken one in$4$
015:181,15[D  ]| the Gresham.
015:181,16[F  ]| ~~ To$9$ be sure, 
015:181,16['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, 
015:181,16[F  ]| by$4$ far the best thing to$9$ do.
015:181,17[F  ]| And the children, Gretta, you are not anxious about them?
015:181,18[E  ]| ~~ O, for$4$ one night, 
015:181,18['  ]| said Mrs*Conroy. 
015:181,18[E  ]| Besides, Bessie will$1$
015:181,19[E  ]| look after them.
015:181,20[F  ]| ~~ To$9$ be sure, 
015:181,20['  ]| said Aunt*Kate again. 
015:181,20[F  ]| What a comfort it is
015:181,21[F  ]| to$9$ have a girl like$4$ that$6#2$, one you can depend on$4$! There is that$6#2$
015:181,22[F  ]| Lily, I am sure I do not know what has come over her lately.
015:181,23[F  ]| She is not the girl she was at all.
015:181,24['  ]| Gabriel was about to$9$ ask his aunt some questions on$4$ this
015:181,25['  ]| point but she broke off suddenly to$9$ gaze after her sister who$6#1$
015:181,26['  ]| had wandered down the stairs and was craning her neck over
015:181,27['  ]| the banisters.
015:181,28[F  ]| ~~ Now, I ask you, 
015:181,28['  ]| she said, almost testily, 
015:181,28[F  ]| where is Julia
015:181,29[F  ]| going? Julia! Julia! Where are you going?
015:181,30['  ]| Julia, who$6#1$ had gone halfway down one flight, came back
015:181,31['  ]| and announced blandly:
015:181,32[G  ]| ~~ Here is Freddy.
015:182,01['  ]| At the same moment a clapping of hands and a final flourish
015:182,02['  ]| of the pianist told that$3$ the waltz had ended. The drawing-room
015:182,03['  ]| door was opened from within and some couples came
015:182,04['  ]| out. Aunt*Kate drew Gabriel aside hurriedly and whispered
015:182,05['  ]| into his ear:
015:182,06[F  ]| ~~ Slip down, Gabriel, like$4$ a good fellow and see if he is
015:182,07[F  ]| all right, and do not let him up$5$ if he is screwed. I am sure he is
015:182,08[F  ]| screwed. I am sure he is.
015:182,09['  ]| Gabriel went to$4$ the stairs and listened over the banisters.
015:182,10['  ]| He could hear two persons talking in$4$ the pantry. Then he
015:182,11['  ]| recognised Freddy*Malins' laugh. He went down the stairs
015:182,12['  ]| noisily.
015:182,13[F  ]| ~~ It is such a relief, 
015:182,13['  ]| said Aunt*Kate to$4$ Mrs*Conroy, 
015:182,13[F  ]| that$3$
015:182,14[F  ]| Gabriel is here. I always feel easier in$4$ my mind when he is
015:182,15[F  ]| here. ~~ Julia, there is Miss*Daly and Miss*Power will$1$ take
015:182,16[F  ]| some refreshment. Thanks for$4$ your beautiful waltz, Miss*Daly.
015:182,17[F  ]| It made lovely time.
015:182,18['  ]| A tall wizen-faced man, with a stiff grizzled moustache
015:182,19['  ]| and swarthy skin, who$6#1$ was passing out with his partner said:
015:182,20[H  ]| ~~ And may we have some refreshment, too, Miss*Morkan?
015:182,21[F  ]| ~~ Julia, 
015:182,21['  ]| said Aunt*Kate summarily, 
015:182,21[F  ]| and here is Mr*Browne
015:182,22[F  ]| and Miss*Furlong. Take them in$5$, Julia, with Miss*Daly and
015:182,23[F  ]| Miss*Power.
015:182,24[H  ]| ~~ I am the man for$4$ the ladies, 
015:182,24['  ]| said Mr*Browne, pursing his
015:182,25['  ]| lips until his moustache bristled and smiling in$4$ all his wrinkles.
015:182,26[H  ]| You know, Miss*Morkan, the reason they are so$5#1$ fond of me is ~~ 
015:182,27['  ]| He did not finish his sentence, but, seeing that$3$ Aunt*Kate
015:182,28['  ]| was out of earshot, at once led the three young ladies into
015:182,29['  ]| the back room. The middle of the room was occupied by$4$ two
015:182,30['  ]| square tables placed end to$4$ end, and on$4$ these Aunt*Julia and
015:182,31['  ]| the caretaker were straightening and smoothing a large cloth.
015:182,32['  ]| On$4$ the sideboard were arrayed dishes and plates, and glasses
015:182,33['  ]| and bundles of knives and forks and spoons. The top of the
015:182,34['  ]| closed square piano served also as a sideboard for$4$ viands and
015:183,01['  ]| sweets. At a smaller sideboard in$4$ one corner two young men
015:183,02['  ]| were standing, drinking hop-bitters.
015:183,03['  ]| Mr*Browne led his charges thither and invited them all,
015:183,04['  ]| in$4$ jest, to$4$ some ladies' punch, hot, strong and sweet. As they
015:183,05['  ]| said 
015:183,05@y   | they never took anything strong 
015:183,05['  ]| he opened three bottles
015:183,06['  ]| of lemonade for$4$ them. Then he asked one of the young men
015:183,07['  ]| to$9$ move aside, and, taking hold of the decanter, filled out
015:183,08['  ]| for$4$ himself a goodly measure of whisky. The young men
015:183,09['  ]| eyed him respectfully while he took a trial sip.
015:183,10[H  ]| ~~ God help me, 
015:183,10['  ]| he said, smiling, 
015:183,10[H  ]| it is the doctor's orders.
015:183,11['  ]| His wizened face broke into a broader smile, and the three
015:183,12['  ]| young ladies laughed in$4$ musical echo to$4$ his pleasantry, swaying
015:183,13['  ]| their bodies to$8$ and fro, with nervous jerks of their shoulders.
015:183,14['  ]| The boldest said:
015:183,15[X  ]| ~~ O, now, Mr*Browne, I am sure the doctor never ordered
015:183,16[X  ]| anything of the kind.
015:183,17['  ]| Mr*Browne took another sip of his whisky and said, with
015:183,18['  ]| sidling mimicry:
015:183,19[H  ]| ~~ Well, you see, I am like$4$ the famous Mrs*Cassidy, who$6#1$ is
015:183,20[H  ]| reported to$9$ have said: 
015:183,20@z   | \Now\, \Mary*Grimes\, \if\ \I\ \do not\ \take\ \it\,
015:183,21@z   | \make\ \me\ \take\ \it\, \for$3$\ \I\ \feel\ \I\ \want\ \it\.
015:183,22['  ]| His hot face had leaned forward a little too confidentially
015:183,23['  ]| and he had assumed a very low Dublin accent so$3$ that$3$ the young
015:183,24['  ]| ladies, with one instinct, received his speech in$4$ silence. Miss*Furlong, 
015:183,25['  ]| who$6#1$ was one of Mary*Jane's pupils, asked Miss*Daly
015:183,26['  ]| what was the name of the pretty waltz she had played; and
015:183,27['  ]| Mr*Browne, seeing that$3$ he was ignored, turned promptly to$4$
015:183,28['  ]| the two young men who$6#1$ were more appreciative.
015:183,29['  ]| A red-faced young woman, dressed in$4$ pansy, came into
015:183,30['  ]| the room, excitedly clapping her hands and crying:
015:183,31[W  ]| ~~ Quadrilles! Quadrilles!
015:183,32['  ]| Close on$4$ her heels came Aunt*Kate, crying:
015:183,33[F  ]| ~~ Two gentlemen and three ladies, Mary*Jane!
015:183,34[I  ]| ~~ O, here is Mr*Bergin and Mr*Kerrigan, 
015:183,34['  ]| said Mary*Jane.
015:184,01[I  ]| Mr*Kerrigan, will$1$ you take Miss*Power? Miss*Furlong, may I
015:184,02[I  ]| get you a partner, Mr*Bergin. O, that$6#2$ will$1$ just do now.
015:184,03[F  ]| ~~ Three ladies, Mary*Jane, 
015:184,03['  ]| said Aunt*Kate.
015:184,04['  ]| The two young gentlemen asked the ladies if they might
015:184,05['  ]| have the pleasure, and Mary*Jane turned to$4$ Miss*Daly.
015:184,06[I  ]| ~~ O, Miss*Daly, you are really awfully good, after playing for$4$
015:184,07[I  ]| the last two dances, but really we are so$5#1$ short of ladies to-night.
015:184,08[W  ]| ~~ I do not mind in$4$ the least, Miss*Morkan.
015:184,09[I  ]| ~~ But I have a nice partner for$4$ you, Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy, the
015:184,10[I  ]| tenor. I will$1$ get him to$9$ sing later on$5$. All Dublin is raving about
015:184,11[I  ]| him.
015:184,12[F  ]| ~~ Lovely voice, lovely voice! 
015:184,12['  ]| said Aunt*Kate.
015:184,13['  ]| As the piano had twice begun the prelude to$4$ the first figure
015:184,14['  ]| Mary*Jane led her recruits quickly from the room. They
015:184,15['  ]| had hardly gone when Aunt*Julia wandered slowly into the
015:184,16['  ]| room, looking behind her at something.
015:184,17[F  ]| ~~ What is the matter, Julia? 
015:184,17['  ]| asked Aunt*Kate anxiously. 
015:184,17[F  ]| Who$6#2$
015:184,18[F  ]| is it?
015:184,19['  ]| Julia, who$6#1$ was carrying in$4$ a column of table-napkins,
015:184,20['  ]| turned to$4$ her sister and said, simply, as if the question had
015:184,21['  ]| surprised her:
015:184,22[G  ]| ~~ It is only Freddy, Kate, and Gabriel with him.
015:184,23['  ]| In$4$ fact right behind her Gabriel could be seen piloting
015:184,24['  ]| Freddy*Malins across the landing. The latter, a young man
015:184,25['  ]| of about forty, was of Gabriel's size and build, with very
015:184,26['  ]| round shoulders. His face was fleshy and pallid, touched with
015:184,27['  ]| colour only at the thick hanging lobes of his ears and at the
015:184,28['  ]| wide wings of his nose. He had coarse features, a blunt nose,
015:184,29['  ]| a convex and receding brow, tumid and protruded lips. His
015:184,30['  ]| heavy-lidded eyes and the disorder of his scanty hair made
015:184,31['  ]| him look sleepy. He was laughing heartily in$4$ a high key at a
015:184,32['  ]| story which$6#1$ he had been telling Gabriel on$4$ the stairs and at
015:184,33['  ]| the same time rubbing the knuckles of his left fist backwards
015:184,34['  ]| and forwards into his left eye.
015:185,01[G  ]| ~~ Good-evening, Freddy, 
015:185,01['  ]| said Aunt*Julia.
015:185,02['  ]| Freddy*Malins bade the Misses*Morkan good-evening in$4$
015:185,03['  ]| what seemed an offhand fashion by$4$ reason of the habitual
015:185,04['  ]| catch in$4$ his voice and then, seeing that$3$ Mr*Browne was grinning
015:185,05['  ]| at him from the sideboard, crossed the room on$4$ rather
015:185,06['  ]| shaky legs and began to$9$ repeat in$4$ an undertone the story he
015:185,07['  ]| had just told to$4$ Gabriel.
015:185,08[F  ]| ~~ He is not so$5#1$ bad, is he? 
015:185,08['  ]| said Aunt*Kate to$4$ Gabriel.
015:185,09['  ]| Gabriel's brows were dark but he raised them quickly and
015:185,10['  ]| answered:
015:185,11[D  ]| ~~ O no$7$, hardly noticeable.
015:185,12[F  ]| ~~ Now, is not he a terrible fellow! 
015:185,12['  ]| she said. 
015:185,12[F  ]| And his poor
015:185,13[F  ]| mother made him take the pledge on$4$ New Year's Eve. But
015:185,14[F  ]| come on$5$, Gabriel, into the drawing-room.
015:185,15['  ]| Before leaving the room with Gabriel she signalled to$4$
015:185,16['  ]| Mr*Browne by$4$ frowning and shaking her forefinger in$4$ warning
015:185,17['  ]| to$8$ and fro. Mr*Browne nodded in$4$ answer and, when she
015:185,18['  ]| had gone, said to$4$ Freddy*Malins:
015:185,19[H  ]| ~~ Now, then, Teddy, I am going to$9$ fill you out a good glass
015:185,20[H  ]| of lemonade just to$9$ buck you up$5$.
015:185,21['  ]| Freddy*Malins, who$6#1$ was nearing the climax of his story,
015:185,22['  ]| waved the offer aside impatiently but Mr*Browne, having first
015:185,23['  ]| called Freddy*Malins' attention to$4$ a disarray in$4$ his dress,
015:185,24['  ]| filled out and handed him a full glass of lemonade. Freddy*Malins' 
015:185,25['  ]| left hand accepted the glass mechanically, his right
015:185,26['  ]| hand being engaged in$4$ the mechanical readjustment of his
015:185,27['  ]| dress. Mr*Browne, whose face was once more wrinkling with
015:185,28['  ]| mirth, poured out for$4$ himself a glass of whisky while Freddy*Malins 
015:185,29['  ]| exploded, before he had well reached the climax of
015:185,30['  ]| his story, in$4$ a kink of high-pitched bronchitic laughter and,
015:185,31['  ]| setting down his untasted and overflowing glass, began to$9$
015:185,32['  ]| rub the knuckles of his left fist backwards and forwards into
015:185,33['  ]| his left eye, repeating words of his last phrase as well as his fit
015:185,34['  ]| of laughter would allow him.
015:186,01['  ]| ~~~
015:186,02['  ]| Gabriel could not listen while Mary*Jane was playing her
015:186,03['  ]| Academy piece, full of runs and difficult passages, to$4$ the
015:186,04['  ]| hushed drawing-room. He liked music but the piece she was
015:186,05['  ]| playing had no$2$ melody for$4$ him and he doubted whether it
015:186,06['  ]| had any melody for$4$ the other listeners, though they had
015:186,07['  ]| begged Mary*Jane to$9$ play something. Four young men, who$6#1$
015:186,08['  ]| had come from the refreshment-room to$9$ stand in$4$ the doorway
015:186,09['  ]| at the sound of the piano, had gone away quietly in$4$ couples
015:186,10['  ]| after a few minutes. The only persons who$6#1$ seemed to$9$
015:186,11['  ]| follow the music were Mary*Jane herself, her hands racing
015:186,12['  ]| along the key-board or lifted from it at the pauses like$4$ those
015:186,13['  ]| of a priestess in$4$ momentary imprecation, and Aunt*Kate standing
015:186,14['  ]| at her elbow to$9$ turn the page.
015:186,15['  ]| Gabriel's eyes, irritated by$4$ the floor, which$6#1$ glittered with
015:186,16['  ]| beeswax under the heavy chandelier, wandered to$4$ the wall
015:186,17['  ]| above the piano. A picture of the balcony scene in$4$ \Romeo*and*Juliet\
015:186,18['  ]| hung there and beside it was a picture of the two
015:186,19['  ]| murdered princes in$4$ the Tower which$6#1$ Aunt*Julia had worked
015:186,20['  ]| in$4$ red, blue and brown wools when she was a girl. Probably
015:186,21['  ]| in$4$ the school they had gone to$4$ as girls that$6#2$ kind of work had
015:186,22['  ]| been taught, for$4$ one year his mother had worked for$4$ him as a
015:186,23['  ]| birthday present a waistcoat of purple tabinet, with little
015:186,24['  ]| foxes' heads upon$4$ it, lined with brown satin and having round
015:186,25['  ]| mulberry buttons. It was strange that$3$ his mother had had no$2$
015:186,26['  ]| musical talent though Aunt*Kate used to$9$ call her the brains
015:186,27['  ]| carrier of the Morkan family. Both she and Julia had always
015:186,28['  ]| seemed a little proud of their serious and matronly sister. Her
015:186,29['  ]| photograph stood before the pierglass. She held an open book
015:186,30['  ]| on$4$ her knees and was pointing out something in$4$ it to$4$ Constantine
015:186,31['  ]| who$6#1$, dressed in$4$ a man-o'-war suit, lay at her feet. It
015:186,32['  ]| was she who$6#1$ had chosen the names for$4$ her sons for$3$ she was
015:186,33['  ]| very sensible of the dignity of family life. Thanks to$4$ her, Constantine
015:186,34['  ]| was now senior curate in$4$ Balbriggan and, thanks to$4$
015:187,01['  ]| her, Gabriel himself had taken his degree in$4$ the Royal*University.
015:187,02['  ]| A shadow passed over his face as he remembered her sullen
015:187,03['  ]| opposition to$4$ his marriage. Some slighting phrases she
015:187,04['  ]| had used still rankled in$4$ his memory; she had once spoken of
015:187,05['  ]| Gretta as being country cute and that$6#2$ was not true of Gretta
015:187,06['  ]| at all. It was Gretta who$6#1$ had nursed her during all her last long
015:187,07['  ]| illness in$4$ their house at Monkstown.
015:187,08['  ]| He knew that$3$ Mary*Jane must be near the end of her piece
015:187,09['  ]| for$3$ she was playing again the opening melody with runs of
015:187,10['  ]| scales after every bar and while he waited for$4$ the end the
015:187,11['  ]| resentment died down in$4$ his heart. The piece ended with a
015:187,12['  ]| trill of octaves in$4$ the treble and a final deep octave in$4$ the bass.
015:187,13['  ]| Great applause greeted Mary*Jane as, blushing and rolling up$5$
015:187,14['  ]| her music nervously, she escaped from the room. The most
015:187,15['  ]| vigorous clapping came from the four young men in$4$ the
015:187,16['  ]| doorway who$6#1$ had gone away to$4$ the refreshment-room at the
015:187,17['  ]| beginning of the piece but had come back when the piano
015:187,18['  ]| had stopped.
015:187,19['  ]| Lancers were arranged. Gabriel found himself partnered
015:187,20['  ]| with Miss*Ivors. She was a frank-mannered talkative young
015:187,21['  ]| lady, with a freckled face and prominent brown eyes. She did
015:187,22['  ]| not wear a low-cut bodice and the large brooch which$6#1$ was
015:187,23['  ]| fixed in$4$ the front of her collar bore on$4$ it an Irish device.
015:187,24['  ]| When they had taken their places she said abruptly:
015:187,25[K  ]| ~~ I have a crow to$9$ pluck with you.
015:187,26[D  ]| ~~ With me? 
015:187,26['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:187,27['  ]| She nodded her head gravely.
015:187,28[D  ]| ~~ What is it? 
015:187,28['  ]| asked Gabriel, smiling at her solemn manner.
015:187,29[K  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is G.C.? 
015:187,29['  ]| answered Miss*Ivors, turning her eyes upon$4$
015:187,30['  ]| him.
015:187,31['  ]| Gabriel coloured and was about to$9$ knit his brows, as if
015:187,32['  ]| he did not understand, when she said bluntly:
015:187,33[K  ]| ~~ O, innocent Amy! I have found out that$3$ you write for$4$
015:187,34[K  ]| \The*Daily*Express\. Now, are not you ashamed of yourself?
015:188,01[D  ]| ~~ Why should I be ashamed of myself? 
015:188,01['  ]| asked Gabriel,
015:188,02['  ]| blinking his eyes and trying to$9$ smile.
015:188,03[K  ]| ~~ Well, I am ashamed of you, 
015:188,03['  ]| said Miss*Ivors frankly. 
015:188,03[K  ]| To$9$
015:188,04[K  ]| say you would write for$4$ a rag like$4$ that$6#2$ did not think you were a
015:188,05[K  ]| West*Briton.
015:188,06['  ]| A look of perplexity appeared on$4$ Gabriel's face. It was true
015:188,07['  ]| that$3$ he wrote a literary column every Wednesday in$4$ \The*Daily*Express\,
015:188,08['  ]| for$4$ which$6#1$ he was paid fifteen shillings. But that$6#2$ did
015:188,09['  ]| not make him a West*Briton surely. The books he received
015:188,10['  ]| for$4$ review were almost more welcome than the paltry cheque.
015:188,11['  ]| He loved to$9$ feel the covers and turn over the pages of newly
015:188,12['  ]| printed books. Nearly every day when his teaching in$4$ the college
015:188,13['  ]| was ended he used to$9$ wander down the quays to$4$ the second-hand
015:188,14['  ]| booksellers, to$4$ Hickey's on$4$ Bachelor's Walk, to$4$
015:188,15['  ]| Webb's or Massey's on$4$ Aston's*Quay, or to$4$ O'Clohissey's in$4$
015:188,16['  ]| the by-street. He did not know how to$9$ meet her charge. He
015:188,17['  ]| wanted to$9$ say that$3$ literature was above politics. But they were
015:188,18['  ]| friends of many years' standing and their careers had been
015:188,19['  ]| parallel, first at the University and then as teachers: he could
015:188,20['  ]| not risk a grandiose phrase with her. He continued blinking his
015:188,21['  ]| eyes and trying to$9$ smile and murmured lamely that$3$ he saw
015:188,22['  ]| nothing political in$4$ writing reviews of books.
015:188,23['  ]| When their turn to$9$ cross had come he was still perplexed
015:188,24['  ]| and inattentive. Miss*Ivors promptly took his hand in$4$ a warm
015:188,25['  ]| grasp and said in$4$ a soft friendly tone:
015:188,26[K  ]| ~~ Of course, I was only joking. Come, we cross now.
015:188,27['  ]| When they were together again she spoke of the University
015:188,28['  ]| question and Gabriel felt more at ease. A friend of hers
015:188,29['  ]| had shown her his review of Browning's poems. That$6#2$ was
015:188,30['  ]| how she had found out the secret: but she liked the review
015:188,31['  ]| immensely. Then she said suddenly:
015:188,32[K  ]| ~~ O, Mr*Conroy, will$1$ you come for$4$ an excursion to$4$ the
015:188,33[K  ]| Aran Isles this summer? We are going to$9$ stay there a whole
015:189,01[K  ]| month. It will$1$ be splendid out in$4$ the Atlantic. You ought to$9$
015:189,02[K  ]| come. Mr*Clancy is coming, and Mr*Kilkelly and Kathleen*Kearney. 
015:189,03[K  ]| It would be splendid for$4$ Gretta too if she would come.
015:189,04[K  ]| She is from Connacht, is not she?
015:189,05[D  ]| ~~ Her people are, 
015:189,05['  ]| said Gabriel shortly.
015:189,06[K  ]| ~~ But you will$1$ come, will$1$ not you? 
015:189,06['  ]| said Miss*Ivors, laying
015:189,07['  ]| her warm hand eagerly on$4$ his arm.
015:189,08[D  ]| ~~ The fact is, 
015:189,08['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:189,08[D  ]| I have already arranged to$9$ go ~~ 
015:189,09[K  ]| ~~ Go where? 
015:189,09['  ]| asked Miss*Ivors.
015:189,10[D  ]| ~~ Well, you know, every year I go for$4$ a cycling tour with
015:189,11[D  ]| some fellows and so$5#2$ ~~ 
015:189,12[K  ]| ~~ But where? 
015:189,12['  ]| asked Miss*Ivors.
015:189,13[D  ]| ~~ Well, we usually go to$4$ France or Belgium or perhaps
015:189,14[D  ]| Germany, 
015:189,14['  ]| said Gabriel awkwardly.
015:189,15[K  ]| ~~ And why do you go to$4$ France and Belgium, 
015:189,15['  ]| said Miss*Ivors, 
015:189,16[K  ]| instead of visiting your own land?
015:189,17[D  ]| ~~ Well, 
015:189,17['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:189,17[D  ]| it is partly to$9$ keep in$4$ touch with the
015:189,18[D  ]| languages and partly for$4$ a change.
015:189,19[K  ]| ~~ And have not you your own language to$9$ keep in$4$ touch
015:189,20[K  ]| with ~~  Irish? 
015:189,20['  ]| asked Miss*Ivors.
015:189,21[D  ]| ~~ Well, 
015:189,21['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:189,21[D  ]| if it comes to$4$ that$6#2$, you know, Irish is
015:189,22[D  ]| not my language.
015:189,23['  ]| Their neighbours had turned to$9$ listen to$4$ the cross-examination.
015:189,24['  ]| Gabriel glanced right and left nervously and tried to$9$
015:189,25['  ]| keep his good humour under the ordeal which$6#1$ was making a
015:189,26['  ]| blush invade his forehead.
015:189,27[K  ]| ~~ And have not you your own land to$9$ visit, 
015:189,27['  ]| continued Miss*Ivors,
015:189,28[K  ]| that$3$ you know nothing of, your own people, and your
015:189,29[K  ]| own country?
015:189,30[D  ]| ~~ O, to$9$ tell you the truth, 
015:189,30['  ]| retorted Gabriel suddenly, 
015:189,30[D  ]| I am
015:189,31[D  ]| sick of my own country, sick of it!
015:189,32[K  ]| ~~ Why? 
015:189,32['  ]| asked Miss*Ivors.
015:189,33['  ]| Gabriel did not answer for$4$ his retort had heated him.
015:190,01[K  ]| ~~ Why? 
015:190,01['  ]| repeated Miss*Ivors.
015:190,02['  ]| They had to$9$ go visiting together and, as he had not answered
015:190,03['  ]| her, Miss*Ivors said warmly:
015:190,04[K  ]| ~~ Of course, you have no$2$ answer.
015:190,05['  ]| Gabriel tried to$9$ cover his agitation by$4$ taking part in$4$ the
015:190,06['  ]| dance with great energy. He avoided her eyes for$3$ he had seen
015:190,07['  ]| a sour expression on$4$ her face. But when they met in$4$ the long
015:190,08['  ]| chain he was surprised to$9$ feel his hand firmly pressed. She
015:190,09['  ]| looked at him from under her brows for$4$ a moment quizzically
015:190,10['  ]| until he smiled. Then, just as the chain was about to$9$ start
015:190,11['  ]| again, she stood on$4$ tiptoe and whispered into his ear:
015:190,12[K  ]| ~~ West*Briton!
015:190,13['  ]| When the lancers were over Gabriel went away to$4$ a remote
015:190,14['  ]| corner of the room where Freddy*Malins' mother was sitting.
015:190,15['  ]| She was a stout feeble old woman with white hair. Her voice
015:190,16['  ]| had a catch in$4$ it like$4$ her son's and she stuttered slightly. She
015:190,17['  ]| had been told that$3$ Freddy had come and that$3$ he was nearly
015:190,18['  ]| all right. Gabriel asked her whether she had had a good crossing.
015:190,19['  ]| She lived with her married daughter in$4$ Glasgow and
015:190,20['  ]| came to$4$ Dublin on$4$ a visit once a year. She answered placidly
015:190,21['  ]| that$3$ she had had a beautiful crossing and that$3$ the captain had
015:190,22['  ]| been most attentive to$4$ her. She spoke also of the beautiful
015:190,23['  ]| house her daughter kept in$4$ Glasgow, and of all the nice friends
015:190,24['  ]| they had there. While her tongue rambled on$5$ Gabriel tried to$9$
015:190,25['  ]| banish from his mind all memory of the unpleasant incident
015:190,26['  ]| with Miss*Ivors. Of course the girl or woman, or whatever
015:190,27['  ]| she was, was an enthusiast but there was a time for$4$ all things.
015:190,28['  ]| Perhaps he ought not to$9$ have answered her like$4$ that$6#2$. But
015:190,29['  ]| she had no$2$ right to$9$ call him a West*Briton before people,
015:190,30['  ]| even in$4$ joke. She had tried to$9$ make him ridiculous before people,
015:190,31['  ]| heckling him and staring at him with her rabbit's eyes.
015:190,32['  ]| He saw his wife making her way towards him through the
015:190,33['  ]| waltzing couples. When she reached him she said into his ear:
015:190,34[E  ]| ~~ Gabriel, Aunt*Kate wants to$9$ know will$1$ not you carve the
015:191,01[E  ]| goose as usual. Miss*Daly will$1$ carve the ham and I will$1$ do the
015:191,02[E  ]| pudding.
015:191,03[D  ]| ~~ All right, 
015:191,03['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:191,04[E  ]| ~~ She is sending in$4$ the younger ones first as soon as this
015:191,05[E  ]| waltz is over so$3$ that$3$ we will$1$ have the table to$4$ ourselves.
015:191,06[D  ]| ~~ Were you dancing? 
015:191,06['  ]| asked Gabriel.
015:191,07[E  ]| ~~ Of course I was. Did not you see me? What words had you
015:191,08[E  ]| with Molly*Ivors?
015:191,09[D  ]| ~~ No$2$ words. Why? Did she say so$5#2$?
015:191,10[E  ]| ~~ Something like$4$ that$6#2$. I am trying to$9$ get that$6#2$ Mr*D'Arcy
015:191,11[E  ]| to$9$ sing. He is full of conceit, I think.
015:191,12[D  ]| ~~ There were no$2$ words, 
015:191,12['  ]| said Gabriel moodily, 
015:191,12[D  ]| only she
015:191,13[D  ]| wanted me to$9$ go for$4$ a trip to$4$ the west of Ireland and I said I
015:191,14[D  ]| would not.
015:191,15['  ]| His wife clasped her hands excitedly and gave a little jump.
015:191,16[E  ]| ~~ O, do go, Gabriel, 
015:191,16['  ]| she cried. 
015:191,16[E  ]| I would love to$9$ see Galway again.
015:191,17[D  ]| ~~ You can go if you like$1$, 
015:191,17['  ]| said Gabriel coldly.
015:191,18['  ]| She looked at him for$4$ a moment, then turned to$4$ Mrs*Malins
015:191,19['  ]| and said:
015:191,20[E  ]| ~~ There is a nice husband for$4$ you, Mrs*Malins.
015:191,21['  ]| While she was threading her way back across the room Mrs*Malins, 
015:191,22['  ]| without adverting to$4$ the interruption, went on$5$ to$9$ tell
015:191,23['  ]| Gabriel what beautiful places there were in$4$ Scotland and beautiful
015:191,24['  ]| scenery. Her son-in-law brought them every year to$4$ the
015:191,25['  ]| lakes and they used to$9$ go fishing. Her son-in-law was a splendid
015:191,26['  ]| fisher. One day he caught a fish, a beautiful big big fish,
015:191,27['  ]| and the man in$4$ the hotel boiled it for$4$ their dinner.
015:191,28['  ]| Gabriel hardly heard what she said. Now that$3$ supper was
015:191,29['  ]| coming near he began to$9$ think again about his speech and
015:191,30['  ]| about the quotation. When he saw Freddy*Malins coming across
015:191,31['  ]| the room to$9$ visit his mother Gabriel left the chair free for$4$ him
015:191,32['  ]| and retired into the embrasure of the window. The room had
015:191,33['  ]| already cleared and from the back room came the clatter of
015:191,34['  ]| plates and knives. Those who$6#1$ still remained in$4$ the drawing-room
015:192,01['  ]| seemed tired of dancing and were conversing quietly in$4$
015:192,02['  ]| little groups. Gabriel's warm trembling fingers tapped the cold
015:192,03['  ]| pane of the window. How cool it must be outside! How pleasant
015:192,04['  ]| it would be to$9$ walk out alone, first along by$4$ the river and
015:192,05['  ]| then through the park! The snow would be lying on$4$ the
015:192,06['  ]| branches of the trees and forming a bright cap on$4$ the top of the
015:192,07['  ]| Wellington*Monument. How much more pleasant it would be
015:192,08['  ]| there than at the supper-table!
015:192,09['  ]| He ran over the headings of his speech: Irish hospitality, sad
015:192,10['  ]| memories, the Three*Graces, Paris, the quotation from Browning.
015:192,11['  ]| He repeated to$4$ himself a phrase he had written in$4$ his review:
015:192,12@d   | \One\ \feels\ \that$3$\ \one\ \is\ \listening\ \to$4$\ \a\ \thought-tormented\
015:192,13@d   | \music\. 
015:192,13['  ]| Miss*Ivors had praised the review. Was she sincere? Had
015:192,14['  ]| she really any life of her own behind all her propagandism?
015:192,15['  ]| There had never been any ill-feeling between them until that$6#2$
015:192,16['  ]| night. It unnerved him to$9$ think that$3$ she would be at the supper-table,
015:192,17['  ]| looking up$5$ at him while he spoke with her critical quizzing
015:192,18['  ]| eyes. Perhaps she would not be sorry to$9$ see him fail in$4$ his
015:192,19['  ]| speech. An idea came into his mind and gave him courage. He
015:192,20['  ]| would say, alluding to$4$ Aunt*Kate and Aunt*Julia: 
015:192,20@d   | \Ladies\ \and\
015:192,21@d   | \Gentlemen\, \the\ \generation\ \which$6#1$\ \is\ \now\ \on$4$\ \the\ \wane\ \among\
015:192,22@d   | \us\ \may\ \have\ \had\ \its\ \faults\ \but\ \for$4$\ \my\ \part\ \I\ \think\ \it\ \had\ \certain\
015:192,23@d   | \qualities\ \of\ \hospitality\, \of\ \humour\, \of\ \humanity\, \which$6#1$\ \the\ \new\
015:192,24@d   | \and\ \very\ \serious\ \and\ \hypereducated\ \generation\ \that$6#1$\ \is\ \growing\
015:192,25@d   | \up$5$\ \around\ \us\ \seems\ \to$4$\ \me\ \to$9$\ \lack\. 
015:192,25['  ]| Very good: that$6#2$ was one for$4$
015:192,26['  ]| Miss*Ivors. What did he care that$3$ his aunts were only two
015:192,27['  ]| ignorant old women?
015:192,28['  ]| A murmur in$4$ the room attracted his attention. Mr*Browne
015:192,29['  ]| was advancing from the door, gallantly escorting Aunt*Julia,
015:192,30['  ]| who$6#1$ leaned upon$4$ his arm, smiling and hanging her head.
015:192,31['  ]| An irregular musketry of applause escorted her also as far
015:192,32['  ]| as the piano and then, as Mary*Jane seated herself on$4$ the stool,
015:192,33['  ]| and Aunt*Julia, no$2$ longer smiling, half turned so$3$ as to$9$ pitch
015:192,34['  ]| her voice fairly into the room, gradually ceased. Gabriel recognised
015:193,01['  ]| the prelude. It was that$6#2$ of an old song of Aunt*Julia's
015:193,02['  ]| ~~ \Arrayed*for*the*Bridal\. Her voice, strong and clear in$4$ tone,
015:193,03['  ]| attacked with great spirit the runs which$6#1$ embellish the air
015:193,04['  ]| and though she sang very rapidly she did not miss even the
015:193,05['  ]| smallest of the grace notes. To$9$ follow the voice, without looking
015:193,06['  ]| at the singer's face, was to$9$ feel and share the excitement
015:193,07['  ]| of swift and secure flight. Gabriel applauded loudly with all
015:193,08['  ]| the others at the close of the song and loud applause was borne
015:193,09['  ]| in$5$ from the invisible supper-table. It sounded so$5#1$ genuine that$3$
015:193,10['  ]| a little colour struggled into Aunt*Julia's face as she bent to$9$
015:193,11['  ]| replace in$4$ the music-stand the old leather-bound song-book
015:193,12['  ]| that$6#1$ had her initials on$4$ the cover. Freddy*Malins, who$6#1$ had
015:193,13['  ]| listened with his head perched sideways to$9$ hear her better,
015:193,14['  ]| was still applauding when everyone else had ceased and talking
015:193,15['  ]| animatedly to$4$ his mother who$6#1$ nodded her head gravely
015:193,16['  ]| and slowly in$4$ acquiescence. At last, when he could clap no$2$
015:193,17['  ]| more, he stood up$5$ suddenly and hurried across the room to$4$
015:193,18['  ]| Aunt*Julia whose hand he seized and held in$4$ both his hands,
015:193,19['  ]| shaking it when words failed him or the catch in$4$ his voice
015:193,20['  ]| proved too much for$4$ him.
015:193,21[L  ]| ~~ I was just telling my mother, 
015:193,21['  ]| he said, 
015:193,21[L  ]| I never heard you
015:193,22[L  ]| sing so$5#1$ well, never. No$7$, I never heard your voice so$5#1$ good as it
015:193,23[L  ]| is to-night. Now! Would you believe that$6#2$ now? That$6#2$ is the truth.
015:193,24[L  ]| Upon$4$ my word and honour that$6#2$ is the truth. I never heard your
015:193,25[L  ]| voice sound so$5#1$ fresh and so$5#1$ ~~ so$5#1$ clear and fresh, never.
015:193,26['  ]| Aunt*Julia smiled broadly and murmured something about
015:193,27['  ]| compliments as she released her hand from his grasp. Mr*Browne 
015:193,28['  ]| extended his open hand towards her and said to$4$ those
015:193,29['  ]| who$6#1$ were near him in$4$ the manner of a showman introducing
015:193,30['  ]| a prodigy to$4$ an audience:
015:193,31[H  ]| ~~ Miss*Julia*Morkan, my latest discovery!
015:193,32['  ]| He was laughing very heartily at this himself when Freddy*Malins 
015:193,33['  ]| turned to$4$ him and said:
015:193,34[L  ]| ~~ Well, Browne, if you are serious you might make a worse
015:194,01[L  ]| discovery. All I can say is I never heard her sing half so$5#1$ well
015:194,02[L  ]| as long as I am coming here. And that$6#2$ is the honest truth.
015:194,03[H  ]| ~~ Neither did I, 
015:194,03['  ]| said Mr*Browne. 
015:194,03[H  ]| I think her voice has
015:194,04[H  ]| greatly improved.
015:194,05['  ]| Aunt*Julia shrugged her shoulders and said with meek
015:194,06['  ]| pride:
015:194,07[G  ]| ~~ Thirty years ago I had not a bad voice as voices go.
015:194,08[F  ]| ~~ I often told Julia, 
015:194,08['  ]| said Aunt*Kate emphatically, 
015:194,08[F  ]| that$3$ she
015:194,09[F  ]| was simply thrown away in$4$ that$6#2$ choir. But she never would
015:194,10[F  ]| be said by$4$ me.
015:194,11['  ]| She turned as if to$9$ appeal to$4$ the good sense of the others
015:194,12['  ]| against a refractory child while Aunt*Julia gazed in$4$ front of
015:194,13['  ]| her, a vague smile of reminiscence playing on$4$ her face.
015:194,14[F  ]| ~~ No$7$, 
015:194,14['  ]| continued Aunt*Kate, 
015:194,14[F  ]| she would not be said or led
015:194,15[F  ]| by$4$ anyone, slaving there in$4$ that$6#2$ choir night and day, night
015:194,16[F  ]| and day. Six o'clock on$4$ Christmas morning! And all for$4$ what?
015:194,17[I  ]| ~~ Well, is not it for$4$ the honour of God, Aunt*Kate? 
015:194,17['  ]| asked
015:194,18['  ]| Mary*Jane, twisting round on$4$ the piano-stool and smiling.
015:194,19['  ]| Aunt*Kate turned fiercely on$4$ her niece and said:
015:194,20[F  ]| ~~ I know all about the honour of God, Mary*Jane, but I
015:194,21[F  ]| think it is not at all honourable for$4$ the pope to$9$ turn out the
015:194,22[F  ]| women out of the choirs that$6#1$ have slaved there all their lives
015:194,23[F  ]| and put little whipper-snappers of boys over their heads. I
015:194,24[F  ]| suppose it is for$4$ the good of the Church if the pope does it.
015:194,25[F  ]| But it is not just, Mary*Jane, and it is not right.
015:194,26['  ]| She had worked herself into a passion and would have continued
015:194,27['  ]| in$4$ defence of her sister for$3$ it was a sore subject with
015:194,28['  ]| her but Mary*Jane, seeing that$3$ all the dancers had come back,
015:194,29['  ]| intervened pacifically:
015:194,30[I  ]| ~~ Now, Aunt*Kate, you are giving scandal to$4$ Mr*Browne
015:194,31[I  ]| who$6#1$ is of the other persuasion.
015:194,32['  ]| Aunt*Kate turned to$4$ Mr*Browne, who$6#1$ was grinning at this
015:194,33['  ]| allusion to$4$ his religion, and said hastily:
015:194,34[F  ]| ~~ O, I do not question the pope's being right. I am only a
015:195,01[F  ]| stupid old woman and I would not presume to$9$ do such a thing.
015:195,02[F  ]| But there is such a thing as common everyday politeness and
015:195,03[F  ]| gratitude. And if I were in$4$ Julia's place I would tell that$3$ Father
015:195,04[F  ]| Healy straight up$5$ to$4$ his face ~~
015:195,05[I  ]| ~~ And besides, Aunt*Kate, 
015:195,05['  ]| said Mary*Jane, 
015:195,05[I  ]| we really are all
015:195,06[I  ]| hungry and when we are hungry we are all very quarrelsome.
015:195,07[H  ]| ~~ And when we are thirsty we are also quarrelsome, 
015:195,07['  ]| added
015:195,08['  ]| Mr*Browne.
015:195,09[I  ]| ~~ So$3$ that$3$ we had better go to$4$ supper, 
015:195,09['  ]| said Mary*Jane, 
015:195,09[I  ]| and
015:195,10[I  ]| finish the discussion afterwards.
015:195,11['  ]| On$4$ the landing outside the drawing-room Gabriel found
015:195,12['  ]| his wife and Mary*Jane trying to$9$ persuade Miss*Ivors to$9$ stay
015:195,13['  ]| for$4$ supper. But Miss*Ivors, who$6#1$ had put on$5$ her hat and was
015:195,14['  ]| buttoning her cloak, would not stay. She did not feel in$4$ the
015:195,15['  ]| least hungry and she had already overstayed her time.
015:195,16[E  ]| ~~ But only for$4$ ten minutes, Molly, 
015:195,16['  ]| said Mrs*Conroy. 
015:195,16[E  ]| That$6#2$
015:195,17[E  ]| will$1$ not delay you.
015:195,18[I  ]| ~~ To$9$ take a pick itself, 
015:195,18['  ]| said Mary*Jane, 
015:195,18[I  ]| after all your dancing.
015:195,19[K  ]| ~~ I really could not, 
015:195,19['  ]| said Miss*Ivors.
015:195,20[I  ]| ~~ I am afraid you did not enjoy yourself at all, 
015:195,20['  ]| said Mary*Jane
015:195,21['  ]| hopelessly.
015:195,22[K  ]| ~~ Ever so$5#1$ much, I assure you, 
015:195,22['  ]| said Miss*Ivors, 
015:195,22[K  ]| but you really
015:195,23[K  ]| must let me run off now.
015:195,24[E  ]| ~~ But how can you get home? 
015:195,24['  ]| asked Mrs*Conroy.
015:195,25[K  ]| ~~ O, it is only two steps up$4$ the quay.
015:195,26['  ]| Gabriel hesitated a moment and said:
015:195,27[D  ]| ~~ If you will$1$ allow me, Miss*Ivors, I will$1$ see you home if you
015:195,28[D  ]| really are obliged to$9$ go.
015:195,29['  ]| But Miss*Ivors broke away from them.
015:195,30[K  ]| ~~ I will$1$ not hear of it, 
015:195,30['  ]| she cried. 
015:195,30[K  ]| For$4$ goodness sake go in$5$ to$4$
015:195,31[K  ]| your suppers and do not mind me. I am quite well able to$9$ take
015:195,32[K  ]| care of myself.
015:196,01[E  ]| ~~ Well, you are the comical girl, Molly, 
015:196,01['  ]| said Mrs*Conroy
015:196,02['  ]| frankly.
015:196,03[K  ]| ~~ \Beannacht\ \libh\, 
015:196,03['  ]| cried Miss*Ivors, with a laugh, as she ran
015:196,04['  ]| down the staircase.
015:196,05['  ]| Mary*Jane gazed after her, a moody puzzled expression on$4$
015:196,06['  ]| her face, while Mrs*Conroy leaned over the banisters to$9$ listen
015:196,07['  ]| for$4$ the hall-door. Gabriel asked himself was he the cause of her
015:196,08['  ]| abrupt departure. But she did not seem to$9$ be in$4$ ill humour: she
015:196,09['  ]| had gone away laughing. He stared blankly down the staircase.
015:196,10['  ]| At that$6#2$ moment Aunt*Kate came toddling out of the supper-room,
015:196,11['  ]| almost wringing her hands in$4$ despair.
015:196,12[F  ]| ~~ Where is Gabriel? 
015:196,12['  ]| she cried. 
015:196,12[F  ]| Where on$4$ earth is Gabriel?
015:196,13[F  ]| There is everyone waiting in$4$ there, stage to$9$ let, and nobody to$9$
015:196,14[F  ]| carve the goose!
015:196,15[D  ]| ~~ Here I am, Aunt*Kate! 
015:196,15['  ]| cried Gabriel, with sudden animation,
015:196,16[D  ]| ready to$9$ carve a flock of geese, if necessary.
015:196,17['  ]| A fat brown goose lay at one end of the table and at the
015:196,18['  ]| other end, on$4$ a bed of creased paper strewn with sprigs of
015:196,19['  ]| parsley, lay a great ham, stripped of its outer skin and peppered
015:196,20['  ]| over with crust crumbs, a neat paper frill round its
015:196,21['  ]| shin and beside this was a round of spiced beef. Between these
015:196,22['  ]| rival ends ran parallel lines of side-dishes: two little minsters
015:196,23['  ]| of jelly, red and yellow; a shallow dish full of blocks of
015:196,24['  ]| blancmange and red jam, a large green leaf-shaped dish with
015:196,25['  ]| a stalk-shaped handle, on$4$ which$6#1$ lay bunches of purple raisins
015:196,26['  ]| and peeled almonds, a companion dish on$4$ which$6#1$ lay a solid
015:196,27['  ]| rectangle of Smyrna figs, a dish of custard topped with grated
015:196,28['  ]| nutmeg, a small bowl full of chocolates and sweets wrapped
015:196,29['  ]| in$4$ gold and silver papers and a glass vase in$4$ which$6#1$ stood some
015:196,30['  ]| tall celery stalks. In$4$ the centre of the table there stood, as sentries
015:196,31['  ]| to$4$ a fruit-stand which$6#1$ upheld a pyramid of oranges and
015:196,32['  ]| American apples, two squat old-fashioned decanters of cut
015:196,33['  ]| glass, one containing port and the other dark sherry. On$4$ the
015:196,34['  ]| closed square piano a pudding in$4$ a huge yellow dish lay in$4$
015:197,01['  ]| waiting and behind it were three squads of bottles of stout and
015:197,02['  ]| ale and minerals, drawn up$5$ according to$4$ the colours of their
015:197,03['  ]| uniforms, the first two black, with brown and red labels, the
015:197,04['  ]| third and smallest squad white, with transverse green sashes.
015:197,05['  ]| Gabriel took his seat boldly at the head of the table and, having
015:197,06['  ]| looked to$4$ the edge of the carver, plunged his fork firmly
015:197,07['  ]| into the goose. He felt quite at ease now for$3$ he was an expert
015:197,08['  ]| carver and liked nothing better than to$9$ find himself at the head
015:197,09['  ]| of a well-laden table.
015:197,10[D  ]| ~~ Miss*Furlong, what shall I send you? 
015:197,10[' ]| he asked. 
015:197,10[D  ]| A wing or
015:197,11[D  ]| a slice of the breast?
015:197,12[W  ]| ~~ Just a small slice of the breast.
015:197,13[D  ]| ~~ Miss*Higgins, what for$4$ you?
015:197,14[W  ]| ~~ O, anything at all, Mr*Conroy.
015:197,15['  ]| While Gabriel and Miss*Daly exchanged plates of goose
015:197,16['  ]| and plates of ham and spiced beef Lily went from guest to$4$
015:197,17['  ]| guest with a dish of hot floury potatoes wrapped in$4$ a white
015:197,18['  ]| napkin. This was Mary*Jane's idea and she had also suggested
015:197,19['  ]| apple sauce for$4$ the goose but Aunt*Kate had said that$3$ plain
015:197,20['  ]| roast goose without apple sauce had always been good enough
015:197,21['  ]| for$4$ her and she hoped she might never eat worse. Mary*Jane
015:197,22['  ]| waited on$4$ her pupils and saw that$3$ they got the best slices and
015:197,23['  ]| Aunt*Kate and Aunt*Julia opened and carried across from the
015:197,24['  ]| piano bottles of stout and ale for$4$ the gentlemen and bottles of
015:197,25['  ]| minerals for$4$ the ladies. There was a great deal of confusion and
015:197,26['  ]| laughter and noise, the noise of orders and counter-orders, of
015:197,27['  ]| knives and forks, of corks and glass-stoppers. Gabriel began to$9$
015:197,28['  ]| carve second helpings as soon as he had finished the first round
015:197,29['  ]| without serving himself. Everyone protested loudly so$3$ that$3$
015:197,30['  ]| he compromised by$4$ taking a long draught of stout for$3$ he had
015:197,31['  ]| found the carving hot work. Mary*Jane settled down quietly to$4$
015:197,32['  ]| her supper but Aunt*Kate and Aunt*Julia were still toddling
015:197,33['  ]| round the table, walking on$4$ each other's heels, getting in$4$ each
015:197,34['  ]| other's way and giving each other unheeded orders. Mr*Browne 
015:198,01['  ]| begged of them to$9$ sit down and eat their suppers
015:198,02['  ]| and so$5#2$ did Gabriel but they said there was time enough so$3$
015:198,03['  ]| that$3$, at last, Freddy*Malins stood up$5$ and, capturing Aunt*Kate,
015:198,04['  ]| plumped her down on$4$ her chair amid general laughter.
015:198,05['  ]| When everyone had been well served Gabriel said, smiling:
015:198,06[D  ]| ~~ Now, if anyone wants a little more of what vulgar people
015:198,07[D  ]| call stuffing let him or her speak.
015:198,08['  ]| A chorus of voices invited him to$9$ begin his own supper and
015:198,09['  ]| Lily came forward with three potatoes which$6#1$ she had reserved
015:198,10['  ]| for$4$ him.
015:198,11[D  ]| ~~ Very well, 
015:198,11['  ]| said Gabriel amiably, as he took another preparatory
015:198,12['  ]| draught, 
015:198,12[D  ]| kindly forget my existence, ladies and gentlemen,
015:198,13[D  ]| for$4$ a few minutes.
015:198,14['  ]| He set to$4$ his supper and took no$2$ part in$4$ the conversation
015:198,15['  ]| with which$6#1$ the table covered Lily's removal of the plates.
015:198,16['  ]| The subject of talk was the opera company which$6#1$ was then
015:198,17['  ]| at the Theatre*Royal. Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy, the tenor, a dark-complexioned
015:198,18['  ]| young man with a smart moustache, praised
015:198,19['  ]| very highly the leading contralto of the company but Miss*Furlong
015:198,20['  ]| thought she had a rather vulgar style of production.
015:198,21['  ]| Freddy*Malins said there was a negro chieftain singing in$4$ the
015:198,22['  ]| second part of the Gaiety pantomime who$6#1$ had one of the finest
015:198,23['  ]| tenor voices he had ever heard.
015:198,24[L  ]| ~~ Have you heard him? 
015:198,24['  ]| he asked Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy across
015:198,25['  ]| the table.
015:198,26[W  ]| ~~ No$7$, 
015:198,26['  ]| answered Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy carelessly.
015:198,27[L  ]| ~~ Because, 
015:198,27['  ]| Freddy*Malins explained, 
015:198,27[L  ]| now I would be curious
015:198,28[L  ]| to$9$ hear your opinion of him. I think he has a grand voice.
015:198,29[H  ]| ~~ It takes Teddy to$9$ find out the really good things, 
015:198,29['  ]| said
015:198,30['  ]| Mr*Browne familiarly to$4$ the table.
015:198,31[L  ]| ~~ And why could not he have a voice too? 
015:198,31['  ]| asked Freddy*Malins 
015:198,32['  ]| sharply. 
015:198,32[L  ]| Is it because he is only a black?
015:198,33['  ]| Nobody answered this question and Mary*Jane led the
015:199,01['  ]| table back to$4$ the legitimate opera. One of her pupils had given
015:199,02['  ]| her a pass for$4$ \Mignon\. Of course, it was very fine, she said,
015:199,03['  ]| but it made her think of poor Georgina Burns. Mr*Browne
015:199,04['  ]| could go back farther still, to$4$ the old Italian companies that$6#1$
015:199,05['  ]| used to$9$ come to$4$ Dublin ~~  Tietjens, Ilma de Murzka, Campanini,
015:199,06['  ]| the great Trebelli, Giuglini, Ravelli, Aramburo. 
015:199,06[H  ]| Those were
015:199,07[H  ]| the days, 
015:199,07['  ]| he said, 
015:199,07[H  ]| when there was something like$4$ singing to$9$ be
015:199,08[H  ]| heard in$4$ Dublin. 
015:199,08['  ]| He told too of 
015:199,08@h   | how the top gallery of the old
015:199,09@h   | Royal used to$9$ be packed night after night, of how one night
015:199,10@h   | an Italian tenor had sung five encores to$4$ \Let*Me*Like*a*Soldier*Fall\,
015:199,11@h   | introducing a high C every time, and of how the gallery
015:199,12@h   | boys would sometimes in$4$ their enthusiasm unyoke the horses
015:199,13@h   | from the carriage of some great \prima*donna\ and pull her
015:199,14@h   | themselves through the streets to$4$ her hotel. Why did they
015:199,15@h   | never play the grand old operas now, 
015:199,15['  ]| he asked, 
015:199,15@h   | \Dinorah,\ \Lucrezia*Borgia\?
015:199,16@h   | Because they could not get the voices to$9$ sing
015:199,17@h   | them: that$6#2$ was why.
015:199,18[J  ]| ~~ O, well, 
015:199,18['  ]| said Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy, 
015:199,18[J  ]| I presume there are
015:199,19[J  ]| as good singers to-day as there were then.
015:199,20[H  ]| ~~ Where are they? 
015:199,20['  ]| asked Mr*Browne defiantly.
015:199,21[J  ]| ~~ In$4$ London, Paris, Milan, 
015:199,21['  ]| said Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy warmly.
015:199,22[J  ]| I suppose Caruso, for$4$ example, is quite as good, if not better
015:199,23[J  ]| than any of the men you have mentioned.
015:199,24[H  ]| ~~ Maybe so$5#2$, 
015:199,24['  ]| said Mr*Browne. 
015:199,24[H  ]| But I may tell you I doubt
015:199,25[H  ]| it strongly.
015:199,26[I  ]| ~~ O, I would give anything to$9$ hear Caruso sing, 
015:199,26['  ]| said Mary*Jane.
015:199,27[F  ]| ~~ For$4$ me, 
015:199,27['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, who$6#1$ had been picking a bone,
015:199,28[F  ]| there was only one tenor. To$9$ please me, I mean. But I suppose
015:199,29[F  ]| none of you ever heard of him.
015:199,30[J  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ was he, Miss*Morkan? 
015:199,30['  ]| asked Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy
015:199,31['  ]| politely.
015:199,32[F  ]| ~~ His name, 
015:199,32['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, 
015:199,32[F  ]| was Parkinson. I heard him
015:199,33[F  ]| when he was in$4$ his prime and I think he had then the purest
015:199,34[F  ]| tenor voice that$6#1$ was ever put into a man's throat.
015:200,01[J  ]| ~~ Strange, 
015:200,01['  ]| said Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy. 
015:200,01[J  ]| I never even heard
015:200,02[J  ]| of him.
015:200,03[H  ]| ~~ Yes, yes, Miss*Morkan is right, 
015:200,03['  ]| said Mr*Browne. 
015:200,03[H  ]| I remember
015:200,04[H  ]| hearing of old Parkinson but he is too far back for$4$
015:200,05[H  ]| me.
015:200,06[F  ]| ~~ A beautiful pure sweet mellow English tenor, 
015:200,06['  ]| said Aunt
015:200,07['  ]| Kate with enthusiasm.
015:200,08['  ]| Gabriel having finished, the huge pudding was transferred
015:200,09['  ]| to$4$ the table. The clatter of forks and spoons began again. Gabriel's
015:200,10['  ]| wife served out spoonfuls of the pudding and passed
015:200,11['  ]| the plates down the table. Midway down they were held up$5$
015:200,12['  ]| by$4$ Mary*Jane, who$6#1$ replenished them with raspberry or orange
015:200,13['  ]| jelly or with blancmange and jam. The pudding was of Aunt
015:200,14['  ]| Julia's making and she received praises for$4$ it from all quarters.
015:200,15['  ]| She herself said that$3$ it was not quite brown enough.
015:200,16[H  ]| ~~ Well, I hope, Miss*Morkan, 
015:200,16['  ]| said Mr*Browne, 
015:200,16[H  ]| that$3$ I am
015:200,17[H  ]| brown enough for$4$ you because, you know, I am all brown.
015:200,18['  ]| All the gentlemen, except Gabriel, ate some of the pudding
015:200,19['  ]| out of compliment to$4$ Aunt*Julia. As Gabriel never ate sweets
015:200,20['  ]| the celery had been left for$4$ him. Freddy*Malins also took a
015:200,21['  ]| stalk of celery and ate it with his pudding. He had been told
015:200,22['  ]| that$3$ celery was a capital thing for$4$ the blood and he was just
015:200,23['  ]| then under doctor's care. Mrs*Malins, who$6#1$ had been silent
015:200,24['  ]| all through the supper, said that$3$ her son was going down to$4$
015:200,25['  ]| Mount*Melleray in$4$ a week or so$5#2$. The table then spoke of
015:200,26['  ]| Mount*Melleray, how bracing the air was down there, how
015:200,27['  ]| hospitable the monks were and how they never asked for$4$ a
015:200,28['  ]| penny-piece from their guests.
015:200,29[H  ]| ~~ And do you mean to$9$ say, 
015:200,29['  ]| asked Mr*Browne incredulously,
015:200,30[H  ]| that$3$ a chap can go down there and put up$5$ there as if it were a
015:200,31[H  ]| hotel and live on$4$ the fat of the land and then come away without
015:200,32[H  ]| paying a farthing?
015:200,33[I  ]| ~~ O, most people give some donation to$4$ the monastery
015:200,34[I  ]| when they leave, 
015:200,34['  ]| said Mary*Jane.
015:201,01[H  ]| ~~ I wish we had an institution like$4$ that$6#2$ in$4$ our Church, 
015:201,01['  ]| said
015:201,02['  ]| Mr*Browne candidly.
015:201,03['  ]| He was astonished to$9$ hear that$3$ the monks never spoke, got
015:201,04['  ]| up$5$ at two in$4$ the morning and slept in$4$ their coffins. He asked
015:201,05['  ]| what they did it for$4$.
015:201,06[F  ]| ~~ That$6#2$ is the rule of the order, 
015:201,06['  ]| said Aunt*Kate firmly.
015:201,07[H  ]| ~~ Yes, but why? 
015:201,07['  ]| asked Mr*Browne.
015:201,08['  ]| Aunt*Kate repeated that$3$ 
015:201,08@f   | it was the rule, that$6#2$ was all. 
015:201,08['  ]| Mr*Browne 
015:201,09['  ]| still seemed not to$9$ understand. Freddy*Malins explained
015:201,10['  ]| to$4$ him, as best he could, that$3$ 
015:201,10@l   | the monks were trying
015:201,11@l   | to$9$ make up$5$ for$4$ the sins committed by$4$ all the sinners in$4$ the outside
015:201,12@l   | world. 
015:201,12['  ]| The explanation was not very clear for$3$ Mr*Browne
015:201,13['  ]| grinned and said:
015:201,14[H  ]| ~~ I like$1$ that$6#2$ idea very much but would not a comfortable
015:201,15[H  ]| spring bed do them as well as a coffin?
015:201,16[I  ]| ~~ The coffin, 
015:201,16['  ]| said Mary*Jane, 
015:201,16[I  ]| is to$9$ remind them of their
015:201,17[I  ]| last end.
015:201,18['  ]| As the subject had grown lugubrious it was buried in$4$ a silence
015:201,19['  ]| of the table during which$6#1$ Mrs*Malins could be heard
015:201,20['  ]| saying to$4$ her neighbour in$4$ an indistinct undertone:
015:201,21[W  ]| ~~ They are very good men, the monks, very pious men.
015:201,22['  ]| The raisins and almonds and figs and apples and oranges
015:201,23['  ]| and chocolates and sweets were now passed about the table
015:201,24['  ]| and Aunt*Julia invited all the guests to$9$ have either port or
015:201,25['  ]| sherry. At first Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy refused to$9$ take either but
015:201,26['  ]| one of his neighbours nudged him and whispered something
015:201,27['  ]| to$4$ him upon$4$ which$6#1$ he allowed his glass to$9$ be filled. Gradually
015:201,28['  ]| as the last glasses were being filled the conversation ceased. A
015:201,29['  ]| pause followed, broken only by$4$ the noise of the wine and by$4$
015:201,30['  ]| unsettlings of chairs. The Misses*Morkan, all three, looked
015:201,31['  ]| down at the tablecloth. Someone coughed once or twice and
015:201,32['  ]| then a few gentlemen patted the table gently as a signal for$4$ silence.
015:201,33['  ]| The silence came and Gabriel pushed back his chair and
015:201,34['  ]| stood up$5$.
015:202,01['  ]| The patting at once grew louder in$4$ encouragement and then
015:202,02['  ]| ceased altogether. Gabriel leaned his ten trembling fingers
015:202,03['  ]| on$4$ the tablecloth and smiled nervously at the company.
015:202,04['  ]| Meeting a row of upturned faces he raised his eyes to$4$ the
015:202,05['  ]| chandelier. The piano was playing a waltz tune and he could
015:202,06['  ]| hear the skirts sweeping against the drawing-room door. People,
015:202,07['  ]| perhaps, were standing in$4$ the snow on$4$ the quay outside,
015:202,08['  ]| gazing up$5$ at the lighted windows and listening to$4$ the waltz
015:202,09['  ]| music. The air was pure there. In$4$ the distance lay the park
015:202,10['  ]| where the trees were weighted with snow. The Wellington*Monument 
015:202,11['  ]| wore a gleaming cap of snow that$6#1$ flashed westward
015:202,12['  ]| over the white field of Fifteen Acres.
015:202,13['  ]| He began:
015:202,14[D  ]| ~~ Ladies and Gentlemen.
015:202,15[D  ]| ~~ It has fallen to$4$ my lot this evening, as in$4$ years past, to$9$
015:202,16[D  ]| perform a very pleasing task but a task for$4$ which$6#1$ I am afraid
015:202,17[D  ]| my poor powers as a speaker are all too inadequate.
015:202,18[H  ]| ~~ No$7$, no$7$! 
015:202,18['  ]| said Mr*Browne.
015:202,19[D  ]| ~~ But, however that$6#2$ may be, I can only ask you to-night
015:202,20[D  ]| to$9$ take the will$0$ for$4$ the deed and to$9$ lend me your attention
015:202,21[D  ]| for$4$ a few moments while I endeavour to$9$ express to$4$ you in$4$
015:202,22[D  ]| words what my feelings are on$4$ this occasion.
015:202,23[D  ]| ~~ Ladies and Gentlemen. It is not the first time that$3$ we have
015:202,24[D  ]| gathered together under this hospitable roof, around this hospitable
015:202,25[D  ]| board. It is not the first time that$3$ we have been the
015:202,26[D  ]| recipients ~~  or perhaps, I had better say, the victims ~~  of the
015:202,27[D  ]| hospitality of certain good ladies.
015:202,28['  ]| He made a circle in$4$ the air with his arm and paused. Everyone
015:202,29['  ]| laughed or smiled at Aunt*Kate and Aunt*Julia and Mary*Jane 
015:202,30['  ]| who$6#1$ all turned crimson with pleasure. Gabriel went on$5$
015:202,31['  ]| more boldly:
015:202,32[D  ]| ~~ I feel more strongly with every recurring year that$3$ our
015:202,33[D  ]| country has no$2$ tradition which$6#1$ does it so$5#1$ much honour and
015:202,34[D  ]| which$6#1$ it should guard so$5#1$ jealously as that$6#2$ of its hospitality.
015:203,01[D  ]| It is a tradition that$6#1$ is unique as far as my experience goes
015:203,02[D  ]| (and I have visited not a few places abroad) among the modern
015:203,03[D  ]| nations. Some would say, perhaps, that$3$ with us it is rather
015:203,04[D  ]| a failing than anything to$9$ be boasted of. But granted even that$6#2$,
015:203,05[D  ]| it is, to$4$ my mind, a princely failing, and one that$6#1$ I trust will$1$
015:203,06[D  ]| long be cultivated among us. Of one thing, at least, I am sure.
015:203,07[D  ]| As long as this one roof shelters the good ladies aforesaid ~~  and
015:203,08[D  ]| I wish from my heart it may do so$5#2$ for$4$ many and many a long
015:203,09[D  ]| year to$9$ come ~~  the tradition of genuine warm-hearted courteous
015:203,10[D  ]| Irish hospitality, which$6#1$ our forefathers have handed down
015:203,11[D  ]| to$4$ us and which$6#1$ we in$4$ turn must hand down to$4$ our descendants,
015:203,12[D  ]| is still alive among us.
015:203,13['  ]| A hearty murmur of assent ran round the table. It shot
015:203,14['  ]| through Gabriel's mind that$3$ Miss*Ivors was not there and that$3$
015:203,15['  ]| she had gone away discourteously: and he said with confidence
015:203,16['  ]| in$4$ himself:
015:203,17[D  ]| ~~ Ladies and Gentlemen.
015:203,18[D  ]| ~~ A new generation is growing up$5$ in$4$ our midst, a generation
015:203,19[D  ]| actuated by$4$ new ideas and new principles. It is serious and
015:203,20[D  ]| enthusiastic for$4$ these new ideas and its enthusiasm, even when
015:203,21[D  ]| it is misdirected, is, I believe, in$4$ the main sincere. But we are
015:203,22[D  ]| living in$4$ a sceptical and, if I may use the phrase, a thought-tormented
015:203,23[D  ]| age: and sometimes I fear that$3$ this new generation,
015:203,24[D  ]| educated or hypereducated as it is, will$1$ lack those qualities
015:203,25[D  ]| of humanity, of hospitality, of kindly humour which$6#1$ belonged
015:203,26[D  ]| to$4$ an older day. Listening to-night to$4$ the names of all those great
015:203,27[D  ]| singers of the past it seemed to$4$ me, I must confess, that$3$ we
015:203,28[D  ]| were living in$4$ a less spacious age. Those days might, without
015:203,29[D  ]| exaggeration, be called spacious days: and if they are gone beyond
015:203,30[D  ]| recall let us hope, at least, that$3$ in$4$ gatherings such as this
015:203,31[D  ]| we shall still speak of them with pride and affection, still cherish
015:203,32[D  ]| in$4$ our hearts the memory of those dead and gone great ones
015:203,33[D  ]| whose fame the world will$1$ not willingly let die.
015:203,34[H  ]| ~~ Hear, hear! 
015:203,34['  ]| said Mr*Browne loudly.
015:204,01[D  ]| ~~ But yet, continued Gabriel, his voice falling into a softer
015:204,02[D  ]| inflection, there are always in$4$ gatherings such as this sadder
015:204,03[D  ]| thoughts that$6#1$ will$1$ recur to$4$ our minds: thoughts of the past,
015:204,04[D  ]| of youth, of changes, of absent faces that$6#1$ we miss here to-night.
015:204,05[D  ]| Our path through life is strewn with many such sad
015:204,06[D  ]| memories: and were we to$9$ brood upon$4$ them always we could
015:204,07[D  ]| not find the heart to$9$ go on$5$ bravely with our work among the
015:204,08[D  ]| living. We have all of us living duties and living affections
015:204,09[D  ]| which$6#1$ claim, and rightly claim, our strenuous endeavours.
015:204,10[D  ]| ~~ Therefore, I will$1$ not linger on$4$ the past. I will$1$ not let
015:204,11[D  ]| any gloomy moralising intrude upon$4$ us here to-night. Here
015:204,12[D  ]| we are gathered together for$4$ a brief moment from the bustle
015:204,13[D  ]| and rush of our everyday routine. We are met here as friends,
015:204,14[D  ]| in$4$ the spirit of good-fellowship, as colleagues, also to$4$ a certain
015:204,15[D  ]| extent, in$4$ the true spirit of \camaraderie\, and as the guests of
015:204,16[D  ]| ~~  what shall I call them? ~~  the Three*Graces of the Dublin
015:204,17[D  ]| musical world.
015:204,18['  ]| The table burst into applause and laughter at this sally. Aunt
015:204,19['  ]| Julia vainly asked each of her neighbours in$4$ turn to$9$ tell her
015:204,20['  ]| what Gabriel had said.
015:204,21[I  ]| ~~ He says we are the Three*Graces, Aunt*Julia, said Mary*Jane.
015:204,22['  ]| 
015:204,23['  ]| Aunt*Julia did not understand but she looked up$5$, smiling,
015:204,24['  ]| at Gabriel, who$6#1$ continued in$4$ the same vein:
015:204,25[D  ]| ~~ Ladies and Gentlemen.
015:204,26[D  ]| ~~ I will$1$ not attempt to$9$ play to-night the part that$6#1$ Paris
015:204,27[D  ]| played on$4$ another occasion. I will$1$ not attempt to$9$ choose between
015:204,28[D  ]| them. The task would be an invidious one and one
015:204,29[D  ]| beyond my poor powers. For$3$ when I view them in$4$ turn,
015:204,30[D  ]| whether it be our chief hostess herself, whose good heart,
015:204,31[D  ]| whose too good heart, has become a byword with all who$6#1$
015:204,32[D  ]| know her, or her sister, who$6#1$ seems to$9$ be gifted with perennial
015:204,33[D  ]| youth and whose singing must have been a surprise and a
015:204,34[D  ]| revelation to$4$ us all to-night, or, last but not least, when I consider
015:205,01[D  ]| our youngest hostess, talented, cheerful, hard-working
015:205,02[D  ]| and the best of nieces, I confess, Ladies and Gentlemen, that$3$
015:205,03[D  ]| I do not know to$4$ which$6#1$ of them I should award the prize.
015:205,04['  ]| Gabriel glanced down at his aunts and, seeing the large smile
015:205,05['  ]| on$4$ Aunt*Julia's face and the tears which$6#1$ had risen to$4$ Aunt*Kate's 
015:205,06['  ]| eyes, hastened to$4$ his close. He raised his glass of port
015:205,07['  ]| gallantly, while every member of the company fingered a
015:205,08['  ]| glass expectantly, and said loudly:
015:205,09[D  ]| ~~ Let us toast them all three together. Let us drink to$4$ their
015:205,10[D  ]| health, wealth, long life, happiness and prosperity and may
015:205,11[D  ]| they long continue to$9$ hold the proud and self-won position
015:205,12[D  ]| which$6#1$ they hold in$4$ their profession and the position of honour
015:205,13[D  ]| and affection which$6#1$ they hold in$4$ our hearts.
015:205,14['  ]| All the guests stood up$5$, glass in$4$ hand, and, turning towards
015:205,15['  ]| the three seated ladies, sang in$4$ unison, with Mr*Browne as
015:205,16['  ]| leader:
015:205,17[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,18[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,19[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,20[Z  ]| \Which$6#1$ nobody can deny\.
015:205,21['  ]| Aunt*Kate was making frank use of her handkerchief and
015:205,22['  ]| even Aunt*Julia seemed moved. Freddy*Malins beat time with
015:205,23['  ]| his pudding-fork and the singers turned towards one another,
015:205,24['  ]| as if in$4$ melodious conference, while they sang, with emphasis:
015:205,25[Z  ]| \Unless he tells a lie\,
015:205,26[Z  ]| \Unless he tells a lie\.
015:205,27['  ]| Then, turning once more towards their hostesses, they sang:
015:205,28[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,29[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,30[Z  ]| \For$3$ they are jolly gay fellows\,
015:205,31[Z  ]| \Which$6#1$ nobody can deny\.
015:205,32['  ]| The acclamation which$6#1$ followed was taken up$5$ beyond the
015:205,33['  ]| door of the supper-room by$4$ many of the other guests and renewed
015:206,01['  ]| time after time, Freddy*Malins acting as officer with his
015:206,02['  ]| fork on$4$ high.
015:206,03['  ]| ~~~
015:206,04['  ]| The piercing morning air came into the hall where they
015:206,05['  ]| were standing so$3$ that$3$ Aunt*Kate said:
015:206,06[F  ]| ~~ Close the door, somebody. Mrs*Malins will$1$ get her death
015:206,07[F  ]| of cold.
015:206,08[I  ]| ~~ Browne is out there, Aunt*Kate, 
015:206,08['  ]| said Mary*Jane.
015:206,09[F  ]| ~~ Browne is everywhere, 
015:206,09['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, lowering her voice.
015:206,10['  ]| Mary*Jane laughed at her tone.
015:206,11[I  ]| ~~ Really, 
015:206,11['  ]| she said archly, 
015:206,11[I  ]| he is very attentive.
015:206,12[F  ]| ~~ He has been laid on$4$ here like$4$ the gas, 
015:206,12['  ]| said Aunt*Kate in$4$
015:206,13['  ]| the same tone, all during the Christmas.
015:206,14['  ]| She laughed herself this time good-humouredly and then
015:206,15['  ]| added quickly:
015:206,16[F  ]| ~~ But tell him to$9$ come in$5$, Mary*Jane, and close the door.
015:206,17[F  ]| I hope to$4$ goodness he did not hear me.
015:206,18['  ]| At that$6#2$ moment the hall-door was opened and Mr*Browne
015:206,19['  ]| came in$5$ from the doorstep, laughing as if his heart would
015:206,20['  ]| break. He was dressed in$4$ a long green overcoat with mock
015:206,21['  ]| astrakhan cuffs and collar and wore on$4$ his head an oval fur
015:206,22['  ]| cap. He pointed down the snow-covered quay from where the
015:206,23['  ]| sound of shrill prolonged whistling was borne in$5$.
015:206,24[H  ]| ~~ Teddy will$1$ have all the cabs in$4$ Dublin out, 
015:206,24['  ]| he said.
015:206,25['  ]| Gabriel advanced from the little pantry behind the office,
015:206,26['  ]| struggling into his overcoat and, looking round the hall, said:
015:206,27[D  ]| ~~ Gretta not down yet?
015:206,28[F  ]| ~~ She is getting on$5$ her things, Gabriel, 
015:206,28['  ]| said Aunt*Kate.
015:206,29[D  ]| ~~ Who$6#2$ is playing up$4$ there? 
015:206,29['  ]| asked Gabriel.
015:206,30[F  ]| ~~ Nobody. They are all gone.
015:206,31[I  ]| ~~ O no$7$, Aunt*Kate, 
015:206,31['  ]| said Mary*Jane. 
015:206,31[I  ]| Bartell*D'Arcy and
015:206,32[I  ]| Miss*O'Callaghan are not gone yet.
015:206,33[D  ]| ~~ Someone is strumming at the piano, anyhow, 
015:206,33['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:207,01['  ]| Mary*Jane glanced at Gabriel and Mr*Browne and said with
015:207,02['  ]| a shiver:
015:207,03[I  ]| ~~ It makes me feel cold to$9$ look at you two gentlemen muffled
015:207,04[I  ]| up$5$ like$4$ that$6#2$. I would not like$1$ to$9$ face your journey home at
015:207,05[I  ]| this hour.
015:207,06[H  ]| ~~ I would like$1$ nothing better this minute, 
015:207,06['  ]| said Mr*Browne stoutly,
015:207,07[H  ]| than a rattling fine walk in$4$ the country or a fast drive with a
015:207,08[H  ]| good spanking goer between the shafts.
015:207,09[G  ]| ~~ We used to$9$ have a very good horse and trap at home, 
015:207,09['  ]| said
015:207,10['  ]| Aunt*Julia sadly.
015:207,11[I  ]| ~~ The never-to-be-forgotten Johnny, 
015:207,11['  ]| said Mary*Jane, laughing.
015:207,12['  ]| Aunt*Kate and Gabriel laughed too.
015:207,13[H  ]| ~~ Why, what was wonderful about Johnny? 
015:207,13['  ]| asked Mr*Browne.
015:207,14['  ]| 
015:207,15[D  ]| ~~ The late lamented Patrick*Morkan, our grandfather, that$6#2$
015:207,16[D  ]| is, 
015:207,16['  ]| explained Gabriel, 
015:207,16[D  ]| commonly known in$4$ his later years as
015:207,17[D  ]| the old gentleman, was a glue-boiler.
015:207,18[F  ]| ~~ O, now, Gabriel, 
015:207,18['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, laughing, 
015:207,18[F  ]| he had a
015:207,19[F  ]| starch mill.
015:207,20[D  ]| ~~ Well, glue or starch, 
015:207,20['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:207,20[D  ]| the old gentleman had
015:207,21[D  ]| a horse by$4$ the name of Johnny. And Johnny used to$9$ work in$4$
015:207,22[D  ]| the old gentleman's mill, walking round and round in$4$ order to$9$
015:207,23[D  ]| drive the mill. That$6#2$ was all very well; but now comes the
015:207,24[D  ]| tragic part about Johnny. One fine day the old gentleman
015:207,25[D  ]| thought he would like$1$ to$9$ drive out with the quality to$4$ a military
015:207,26[D  ]| review in$4$ the park.
015:207,27[F  ]| ~~ The Lord have mercy on$4$ his soul, 
015:207,27['  ]| said Aunt*Kate compassionately.
015:207,28[D  ]| ~~ Amen, 
015:207,28['  ]| said Gabriel. 
015:207,28[D  ]| So$3$ the old gentleman, as I said, harnessed
015:207,29[D  ]| Johnny and put on$5$ his very best tall hat and his very
015:207,30[D  ]| best stock collar and drove out in$4$ grand style from his ancestral
015:207,31[D  ]| mansion somewhere near Back*Lane, I think.
015:208,01['  ]| Everyone laughed, even Mrs*Malins, at Gabriel's manner
015:208,02['  ]| and Aunt*Kate said:
015:208,03[F  ]| ~~ O now, Gabriel, he did not live in$4$ Back*Lane, really. Only
015:208,04[F  ]| the mill was there.
015:208,05[D  ]| ~~ Out from the mansion of his forefathers, 
015:208,05['  ]| continued Gabriel,
015:208,06[D  ]| he drove with Johnny. And everything went on$5$ beautifully
015:208,07[D  ]| until Johnny came in$4$ sight of King*Billy's statue: and
015:208,08[D  ]| whether he fell in$4$ love with the horse King*Billy sits on$4$ or
015:208,09[D  ]| whether he thought he was back again in$4$ the mill, anyhow he
015:208,10[D  ]| began to$9$ walk round the statue.
015:208,11['  ]| Gabriel paced in$4$ a circle round the hall in$4$ his goloshes
015:208,12['  ]| amid the laughter of the others.
015:208,13[D  ]| ~~ Round and round he went, 
015:208,13['  ]| said Gabriel, 
015:208,13[D  ]| and the old gentleman,
015:208,14[D  ]| who$6#1$ was a very pompous old gentleman, was highly
015:208,15[D  ]| indignant. 
015:208,15@v   | \Go\ \on$5$\, \sir\! \What\ \do\ \you\ \mean\, \sir\? \Johnny\!
015:208,16@v   | \Johnny\! \Most\ \extraordinary\ \conduct\! \Can not\ \understand\ \the\
015:208,17@v   | \horse\!
015:208,18['  ]| The peals of laughter which$6#1$ followed Gabriel's imitation of
015:208,19['  ]| the incident were interrupted by$4$ a resounding knock at the
015:208,20['  ]| hall-door. Mary*Jane ran to$9$ open it and let in$5$ Freddy*Malins.
015:208,21['  ]| Freddy*Malins, with his hat well back on$4$ his head and his
015:208,22['  ]| shoulders humped with cold, was puffing and steaming after
015:208,23['  ]| his exertions.
015:208,24[L  ]| ~~ I could only get one cab, 
015:208,24['  ]| he said.
015:208,25[D  ]| ~~ O, we will$1$ find another along the quay, 
015:208,25['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:208,26[F  ]| ~~ Yes, 
015:208,26['  ]| said Aunt*Kate. 
015:208,26[F  ]| Better not keep Mrs*Malins standing
015:208,27[F  ]| in$4$ the draught.
015:208,28['  ]| Mrs*Malins was helped down the front steps by$4$ her son and
015:208,29['  ]| Mr*Browne and, after many mano*euvres, hoisted into the
015:208,30['  ]| cab. Freddy*Malins clambered in$5$ after her and spent a long
015:208,31['  ]| time settling her on$4$ the seat, Mr*Browne helping him with advice.
015:208,32['  ]| At last she was settled comfortably and Freddy*Malins
015:208,33['  ]| invited Mr*Browne into the cab. There was a good deal of
015:208,34['  ]| confused talk, and then Mr*Browne got into the cab. The cabman
015:209,01['  ]| settled his rug over his knees, and bent down for$4$ the
015:209,02['  ]| address. The confusion grew greater and the cabman was directed
015:209,03['  ]| differently by$4$ Freddy*Malins and Mr*Browne, each
015:209,04['  ]| of whom had his head out through a window of the cab. The
015:209,05['  ]| difficulty was to$9$ know where to$9$ drop Mr*Browne along the
015:209,06['  ]| route and Aunt*Kate, Aunt*Julia and Mary*Jane helped the discussion
015:209,07['  ]| from the doorstep with cross-directions and contradictions
015:209,08['  ]| and abundance of laughter. As for$4$ Freddy*Malins he was
015:209,09['  ]| speechless with laughter. He popped his head in$4$ and out of
015:209,10['  ]| the window every moment, to$4$ the great danger of his hat, and
015:209,11['  ]| told his mother how the discussion was progressing till at last
015:209,12['  ]| Mr*Browne shouted to$4$ the bewildered cabman above the din
015:209,13['  ]| of everybody's laughter:
015:209,14[H  ]| ~~ Do you know Trinity*College?
015:209,15[V  ]| ~~ Yes, sir, 
015:209,15['  ]| said the cabman.
015:209,16[H  ]| ~~ Well, drive bang up$5$ against Trinity*College gates, 
015:209,16['  ]| said
015:209,17['  ]| Mr*Browne, 
015:209,17[H  ]| and then we will$1$ tell you where to$9$ go. You understand
015:209,18[H  ]|  now?
015:209,19[V  ]| ~~ Yes, sir, 
015:209,19['  ]| said the cabman.
015:209,20[H  ]| ~~ Make like$4$ a bird for$4$ Trinity*College.
015:209,21[V  ]| ~~ Right, sir, 
015:209,21['  ]| cried the cabman.
015:209,22['  ]| The horse was whipped up$5$ and the cab rattled off along
015:209,23['  ]| the quay amid a chorus of laughter and adieus.
015:209,24['  ]| Gabriel had not gone to$4$ the door with the others. He was
015:209,25['  ]| in$4$ a dark part of the hall gazing up$4$ the staircase. A woman
015:209,26['  ]| was standing near the top of the first flight, in$4$ the shadow
015:209,27['  ]| also. He could not see her face but he could see the terracotta
015:209,28['  ]| and salmonpink panels of her skirt which$6#1$ the shadow made
015:209,29['  ]| appear black and white. It was his wife. She was leaning on$4$ the
015:209,30['  ]| banisters, listening to$4$ something. Gabriel was surprised at her
015:209,31['  ]| stillness and strained his ear to$9$ listen also. But he could hear
015:209,32['  ]| little save the noise of laughter and dispute on$4$ the front steps,
015:209,33['  ]| a few chords struck on$4$ the piano and a few notes of a man's
015:209,34['  ]| voice singing.
015:210,01['  ]| He stood still in$4$ the gloom of the hall, trying to$9$ catch the
015:210,02['  ]| air that$6#1$ the voice was singing and gazing up$5$ at his wife. There
015:210,03['  ]| was grace and mystery in$4$ her attitude as if she were a symbol
015:210,04['  ]| of something. He asked himself what is a woman standing on$4$
015:210,05['  ]| the stairs in$4$ the shadow, listening to$9$ distant music, a symbol
015:210,06['  ]| of. If he were a painter he would paint her in$4$ that$6#2$ attitude.
015:210,07['  ]| Her blue felt hat would show off the bronze of her hair against
015:210,08['  ]| the darkness and the dark panels of her skirt would show off
015:210,09['  ]| the light ones. \Distant\ \Music\ he would call the picture if he
015:210,10['  ]| were a painter.
015:210,11['  ]| The hall-door was closed; and Aunt*Kate, Aunt*Julia and
015:210,12['  ]| Mary*Jane came down the hall, still laughing.
015:210,13[I  ]| ~~ Well, is not Freddy terrible? 
015:210,13['  ]| said Mary*Jane. 
015:210,13[I  ]| He is really
015:210,14[I  ]| terrible.
015:210,15['  ]| Gabriel said nothing but pointed up$4$ the stairs towards
015:210,16['  ]| where his wife was standing. Now that$3$ the hall-door was
015:210,17['  ]| closed the voice and the piano could be heard more clearly.
015:210,18['  ]| Gabriel held up$5$ his hand for$4$ them to$9$ be silent. The song
015:210,19['  ]| seemed to$9$ be in$4$ the old Irish tonality and the singer seemed
015:210,20['  ]| uncertain both of his words and of his voice. The voice, made
015:210,21['  ]| plaintive by$4$ distance and by$4$ the singer's hoarseness, faintly
015:210,22['  ]| illuminated the cadence of the air with words expressing
015:210,23['  ]| grief:
015:210,24[Z  ]| \O, the rain falls on$4$ my heavy locks\
015:210,25[Z  ]| \And the dew wets my skin\,
015:210,26[Z  ]| \My babe lies cold\ ~~
015:210,27[I  ]| ~~ O, 
015:210,27['  ]| exclaimed Mary*Jane. 
015:210,27[I  ]| It is Bartell*D'Arcy singing and
015:210,28[I  ]| he would not sing all the night. O, I will$1$ get him to$9$ sing a song
015:210,29[I  ]| before he goes.
015:210,30[F  ]| ~~ O do, Mary*Jane, 
015:210,30['  ]| said Aunt*Kate.
015:210,31['  ]| Mary*Jane brushed past the others and ran to$4$ the staircase
015:210,32['  ]| but before she reached it the singing stopped and the piano
015:210,33['  ]| was closed abruptly.
015:210,34[I  ]| ~~ O, what a pity! 
015:210,34['  ]| she cried. 
015:210,34[I  ]| Is he coming down, Gretta?
015:211,01['  ]| Gabriel heard his wife answer yes and saw her come down
015:211,02['  ]| towards them. A few steps behind her were Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy
015:211,03['  ]| and Miss*O'Callaghan.
015:211,04[I  ]| ~~ O, Mr*D'Arcy, 
015:211,04['  ]| cried Mary*Jane, 
015:211,04[I  ]| it is downright mean of
015:211,05[I  ]| you to$9$ break off like$4$ that$6#2$ when we were all in$4$ raptures listening
015:211,06[I  ]| to$4$ you.
015:211,07[W  ]| ~~ I have been at him all the evening, 
015:211,07['  ]| said Miss*O'Callaghan,
015:211,08[W  ]| and Mrs*Conroy too and he told us he had a dreadful cold and
015:211,09[W  ]| could not sing.
015:211,10[F  ]| ~~ O, Mr*D'Arcy, 
015:211,10['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, 
015:211,10[F  ]| now that$6#2$ was a great fib
015:211,11[F  ]| to$9$ tell.
015:211,12[J  ]| ~~ Can not you see that$3$ I am as hoarse as a crow? 
015:211,12['  ]| said Mr*D'Arcy 
015:211,13['  ]| roughly.
015:211,14['  ]| He went into the pantry hastily and put on$5$ his overcoat.
015:211,15['  ]| The others, taken aback by$4$ his rude speech, could find nothing
015:211,16['  ]| to$9$ say. Aunt*Kate wrinkled her brows and made signs to$4$
015:211,17['  ]| the others to$9$ drop the subject. Mr*D'Arcy stood swathing his
015:211,18['  ]| neck carefully and frowning.
015:211,19[G  ]| ~~ It is the weather, 
015:211,19['  ]| said Aunt*Julia, after a pause.
015:211,20[F  ]| ~~ Yes, everybody has colds, 
015:211,20[' ]| said Aunt*Kate readily, 
015:211,20[F  ]| everybody.
015:211,21[I  ]| ~~ They say, 
015:211,21['  ]| said Mary*Jane, 
015:211,21[I  ]| we have not had snow like$4$ it
015:211,22[I  ]| for$4$ thirty years; and I read this morning in$4$ the newspapers that$3$
015:211,23[I  ]| the snow is general all over Ireland.
015:211,24[G  ]| ~~ I love the look of snow, 
015:211,24['  ]| said Aunt*Julia sadly.
015:211,25[W  ]| ~~ So$5#2$ do I, 
015:211,25['  ]| said Miss*O'Callaghan. 
015:211,25[W  ]| I think Christmas is never
015:211,26[W  ]| really Christmas unless we have the snow on$4$ the ground.
015:211,27[F  ]| ~~ But poor Mr*D'Arcy does not like$1$ the snow, 
015:211,27['  ]| said Aunt
015:211,28['  ]| Kate, smiling.
015:211,29['  ]| Mr*D'Arcy came from the pantry, fully swathed and buttoned,
015:211,30['  ]| and in$4$ a repentant tone told them the history of his
015:211,31['  ]| cold. Everyone gave him advice and said it was a great pity
015:211,32['  ]| and urged him to$9$ be very careful of his throat in$4$ the night
015:211,33['  ]| air. Gabriel watched his wife who$6#1$ did not join in$4$ the conversation.
015:212,01['  ]| She was standing right under the dusty fanlight and the
015:212,02['  ]| flame of the gas lit up$5$ the rich bronze of her hair which$6#1$ he
015:212,03['  ]| had seen her drying at the fire a few days before. She was in$4$ the
015:212,04['  ]| same attitude and seemed unaware of the talk about her. At
015:212,05['  ]| last she turned towards them and Gabriel saw that$3$ there was
015:212,06['  ]| colour on$4$ her cheeks and that$3$ her eyes were shining. A sudden
015:212,07['  ]| tide of joy went leaping out of his heart.
015:212,08[E  ]| ~~ Mr*D'Arcy, 
015:212,08['  ]| she said, 
015:212,08[E  ]| what is the name of that$6#2$ song you
015:212,09[E  ]| were singing?
015:212,10[J  ]| ~~ It is called \The*Lass*of*Aughrim\, 
015:212,10['  ]| said Mr*D'Arcy, 
015:212,10[J  ]| but I
015:212,11[J  ]| could not remember it properly. Why? Do you know it?
015:212,12[E  ]| ~~ \The*Lass*of*Aughrim\, 
015:212,12['  ]| she repeated. 
015:212,12[E  ]| I could not think of
015:212,13[E  ]| the name.
015:212,14[I  ]| ~~ It is a very nice air, 
015:212,14['  ]| said Mary*Jane. 
015:212,14[I  ]| I am sorry you were
015:212,15[I  ]| not in$4$ voice to-night.
015:212,16[F  ]| ~~ Now, Mary*Jane, 
015:212,16['  ]| said Aunt*Kate, 
015:212,16[F  ]| do not annoy Mr*D'Arcy.
015:212,17[F  ]| I will$1$ not have him annoyed.
015:212,18['  ]| Seeing that$3$ all were ready to$9$ start she shepherded them
015:212,19['  ]| to$4$ the door where good-night was said:
015:212,20[X  ]| ~~ Well, good-night, Aunt*Kate, and thanks for$4$ the pleasant
015:212,21[X  ]| evening.
015:212,22[F  ]| ~~ Good-night, Gabriel. Good-night, Gretta!
015:212,23[X  ]| ~~ Good-night, Aunt*Kate, and thanks ever so$5#1$ much. Good-night,
015:212,24[X  ]| Aunt*Julia.
015:212,25[X  ]| ~~ O, good-night, Gretta, I did not see you.
015:212,26[X  ]| ~~ Good-night, Mr*D'Arcy. Good-night, Miss*O'Callaghan.
015:212,27[X  ]| ~~ Good-night, Miss*Morkan.
015:212,28[X  ]| ~~ Good-night, again.
015:212,29[X  ]| ~~ Good-night, all. Safe home.
015:212,30[X  ]| ~~ Good-night. Good-night.
015:212,31['  ]| The morning was still dark. A dull yellow light brooded
015:212,32['  ]| over the houses and the river; and the sky seemed to$9$ be descending.
015:212,33['  ]| It was slushy underfoot; and only streaks and patches
015:212,34['  ]| of snow lay on$4$ the roofs, on$4$ the parapets of the quay and on$4$
015:213,01['  ]| the area railings. The lamps were still burning redly in$4$ the
015:213,02['  ]| murky air and, across the river, the palace of the Four Courts
015:213,03['  ]| stood out menacingly against the heavy sky.
015:213,04['  ]| She was walking on$5$ before him with Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy,
015:213,05['  ]| her shoes in$4$ a brown parcel tucked under one arm and her
015:213,06['  ]| hands holding her skirt up$5$ from the slush. She had no$2$ longer
015:213,07['  ]| any grace of attitude but Gabriel's eyes were still bright with
015:213,08['  ]| happiness. The blood went bounding along his veins; and the
015:213,09['  ]| thoughts went rioting through his brain, proud, joyful, tender,
015:213,10['  ]| valorous.
015:213,11['  ]| She was walking on$5$ before him so$5#1$ lightly and so$5#1$ erect that$3$
015:213,12['  ]| he longed to$9$ run after her noiselessly, catch her by$4$ the shoulders
015:213,13['  ]| and say something foolish and affectionate into her ear.
015:213,14['  ]| She seemed to$4$ him so$5#1$ frail that$3$ he longed to$9$ defend her against
015:213,15['  ]| something and then to$9$ be alone with her. Moments of their secret
015:213,16['  ]| life together burst like$4$ stars upon$4$ his memory. A heliotrope
015:213,17['  ]| envelope was lying beside his breakfast-cup and he was
015:213,18['  ]| caressing it with his hand. Birds were twittering in$4$ the ivy and
015:213,19['  ]| the sunny web of the curtain was shimmering along the floor:
015:213,20['  ]| he could not eat for$4$ happiness. They were standing on$4$ the
015:213,21['  ]| crowded platform and he was placing a ticket inside the warm
015:213,22['  ]| palm of her glove. He was standing with her in$4$ the cold, looking
015:213,23['  ]| in$5$ through a grated window at a man making bottles in$4$ a
015:213,24['  ]| roaring furnace. It was very cold. Her face, fragrant in$4$ the
015:213,25['  ]| cold air, was quite close to$4$ his; and suddenly she called out to$4$
015:213,26['  ]| the man at the furnace:
015:213,27[E  ]| ~~ Is the fire hot, sir?
015:213,28['  ]| But the man could not hear her with the noise of the furnace.
015:213,29['  ]| It was just as well. He might have answered rudely.
015:213,30['  ]| A wave of yet more tender joy escaped from his heart and
015:213,31['  ]| went coursing in$4$ warm flood along his arteries. Like$4$ the tender
015:213,32['  ]| fires of stars moments of their life together, that$6#1$ no*one knew
015:213,33['  ]| of or would ever know of, broke upon$4$ and illumined his memory.
015:213,34['  ]| He longed to$9$ recall to$4$ her those moments, to$9$ make her
015:214,01['  ]| forget the years of their dull existence together and remember
015:214,02['  ]| only their moments of ecstasy. For$4$ the years, he felt, had not
015:214,03['  ]| quenched his soul or hers. Their children, his writing, her
015:214,04['  ]| household cares had not quenched all their souls' tender fire. In$4$
015:214,05['  ]| one letter that$6#1$ he had written to$4$ her then he had said: 
015:214,05@d   | \Why\ \is\
015:214,06@d   | \it\ \that$3$\ \words\ \like$4$\ \these\ \seem\ \to$4$\ \me\ \so$5#1$\ \dull\ \and\ \cold\? \Is\ \it\
015:214,07@d   | \because\ \there\ \is\ \no$2$\ \word\ \tender\ \enough\ \to$9$\ \be\ \your\ \name\?
015:214,08['  ]| Like$4$ distant music these words that$6#1$ he had written years
015:214,09['  ]| before were borne towards him from the past. He longed
015:214,10['  ]| to$9$ be alone with her. When the others had gone away, when
015:214,11['  ]| he and she were in$4$ their room in$4$ the hotel, then they would be
015:214,12['  ]| alone together. He would call her softly:
015:214,13[D  ]| ~~ Gretta!
015:214,14['  ]| Perhaps she would not hear at once: she would be undressing.
015:214,15['  ]| Then something in$4$ his voice would strike her. She would
015:214,16['  ]| turn and look at him. ~~
015:214,17['  ]| At the corner of Winetavern*Street they met a cab. He was
015:214,18['  ]| glad of its rattling noise as it saved him from conversation.
015:214,19['  ]| She was looking out of the window and seemed tired. The
015:214,20['  ]| others spoke only a few words, pointing out some building or
015:214,21['  ]| street. The horse galloped along wearily under the murky
015:214,22['  ]| morning sky, dragging his old rattling box after his heels, and
015:214,23['  ]| Gabriel was again in$4$ a cab with her, galloping to$9$ catch the
015:214,24['  ]| boat, galloping to$4$ their honeymoon.
015:214,25['  ]| As the cab drove across O'Connell*Bridge Miss*O'Callaghan
015:214,26['  ]| said:
015:214,27[W  ]| ~~ They say you never cross O'Connell*Bridge without seeing
015:214,28[W  ]| a white horse.
015:214,29[D  ]| ~~ I see a white man this time, 
015:214,29['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:214,30[J  ]| ~~ Where? 
015:214,30['  ]| asked Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy.
015:214,31['  ]| Gabriel pointed to$4$ the statue, on$4$ which$6#1$ lay patches of
015:214,32['  ]| snow. Then he nodded familiarly to$4$ it and waved his hand.
015:214,33[D  ]| ~~ Good-night, Dan, 
015:214,33['  ]| he said gaily.
015:214,34['  ]| When the cab drew up$5$ before the hotel Gabriel jumped
015:215,01['  ]| out and, in$4$ spite of Mr*Bartell*D'Arcy's protest, paid the
015:215,02['  ]| driver. He gave the man a shilling over his fare. The man saluted
015:215,03['  ]| and said:
015:215,04[V  ]| ~~ A prosperous New Year to$4$ you, sir.
015:215,05[D  ]| ~~ The same to$4$ you, 
015:215,05['  ]| said Gabriel cordially.
015:215,06['  ]| She leaned for$4$ a moment on$4$ his arm in$4$ getting out of the
015:215,07['  ]| cab and while standing at the curbstone, bidding the others
015:215,08['  ]| good-night. She leaned lightly on$4$ his arm, as lightly as when
015:215,09['  ]| she had danced with him a few hours before. He had felt proud
015:215,10['  ]| and happy then, happy that$3$ she was his, proud of her grace and
015:215,11['  ]| wifely carriage. But now, after the kindling again of so$5#1$ many
015:215,12['  ]| memories, the first touch of her body, musical and strange and
015:215,13['  ]| perfumed, sent through him a keen pang of lust. Under cover
015:215,14['  ]| of her silence he pressed her arm closely to$4$ his side; and, as
015:215,15['  ]| they stood at the hotel door, he felt that$3$ they had escaped from
015:215,16['  ]| their lives and duties, escaped from home and friends and run
015:215,17['  ]| away together with wild and radiant hearts to$4$ a new adventure.
015:215,18['  ]| An old man was dozing in$4$ a great hooded chair in$4$ the hall.
015:215,19['  ]| He lit a candle in$4$ the office and went before them to$4$ the stairs.
015:215,20['  ]| They followed him in$4$ silence, their feet falling in$4$ soft thuds
015:215,21['  ]| on$4$ the thickly carpeted stairs. She mounted the stairs behind
015:215,22['  ]| the porter, her head bowed in$4$ the ascent, her frail shoulders
015:215,23['  ]| curved as with a burden, her skirt girt tightly about her. He
015:215,24['  ]| could have flung his arms about her hips and held her still for$3$
015:215,25['  ]| his arms were trembling with desire to$9$ seize her and only the
015:215,26['  ]| stress of his nails against the palms of his hands held the wild
015:215,27['  ]| impulse of his body in$4$ check. The porter halted on$4$ the stairs
015:215,28['  ]| to$9$ settle his guttering candle. They halted too on$4$ the steps below
015:215,29['  ]| him. In$4$ the silence Gabriel could hear the falling of the
015:215,30['  ]| molten wax into the tray and the thumping of his own heart
015:215,31['  ]| against his ribs.
015:215,32['  ]| The porter led them along a corridor and opened a door.
015:215,33['  ]| Then he set his unstable candle down on$4$ a toilet-table and
015:215,34['  ]| asked at what hour they were to$9$ be called in$4$ the morning.
015:216,01[D  ]| ~~ Eight, 
015:216,01['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:216,02['  ]| The porter pointed to$4$ the tap of the electric-light and began
015:216,03['  ]| a muttered apology but Gabriel cut him short.
015:216,04[D  ]| ~~ We do not want any light. We have light enough from the
015:216,05[D  ]| street. And I say, he added, pointing to$4$ the candle, you might
015:216,06[D  ]| remove that$6#2$ handsome article, like$4$ a good man.
015:216,07['  ]| The porter took up$5$ his candle again, but slowly for$3$ he was
015:216,08['  ]| surprised by$4$ such a novel idea. Then he mumbled good-night
015:216,09['  ]| and went out. Gabriel shot the lock to$5$.
015:216,10['  ]| A ghostly light from the street lamp lay in$4$ a long shaft from
015:216,11['  ]| one window to$4$ the door. Gabriel threw his overcoat and hat
015:216,12['  ]| on$4$ a couch and crossed the room towards the window. He
015:216,13['  ]| looked down into the street in$4$ order that$3$ his emotion might
015:216,14['  ]| calm a little. Then he turned and leaned against a chest of
015:216,15['  ]| drawers with his back to$4$ the light. She had taken off her hat
015:216,16['  ]| and cloak and was standing before a large swinging mirror, unhooking
015:216,17['  ]| her waist. Gabriel paused for$4$ a few moments, watching
015:216,18['  ]| her, and then said:
015:216,19[D  ]| ~~ Gretta!
015:216,20['  ]| She turned away from the mirror slowly and walked along
015:216,21['  ]| the shaft of light towards him. Her face looked so$5#1$ serious and
015:216,22['  ]| weary that$3$ the words would not pass Gabriel's lips. 
015:216,22@d   | No$7$, it was
015:216,23@d   | not the moment yet.
015:216,24[D  ]| ~~ You looked tired, 
015:216,24['  ]| he said.
015:216,25[E  ]| ~~ I am a little, 
015:216,25['  ]| she answered.
015:216,26[D  ]| ~~ You do not feel ill or weak?
015:216,27[E  ]| ~~ No$7$, tired: that$6#2$ is all.
015:216,28['  ]| She went on$5$ to$4$ the window and stood there, looking out.
015:216,29['  ]| Gabriel waited again and then, fearing that$3$ diffidence was
015:216,30['  ]| about to$9$ conquer him, he said abruptly:
015:216,31[D  ]| ~~ By$4$ the way, Gretta!
015:216,32[E  ]| ~~ What is it?
015:216,33[D  ]| ~~ You know that$6#2$ poor fellow Malins? 
015:216,33['  ]| he said quickly.
015:217,01[E  ]| ~~ Yes. What about him?
015:217,02[D  ]| ~~ Well, poor fellow, he is a decent sort of chap after all,
015:217,03['  ]| continued Gabriel in$4$ a false voice. 
015:217,03[D  ]| He gave me back that$6#2$ sovereign
015:217,04[D  ]| I lent him and I did not expect it really. It is a pity he
015:217,05[D  ]| would not keep away from that$6#2$ Browne, because he is not a bad
015:217,06[D  ]| fellow at heart.
015:217,07['  ]| He was trembling now with annoyance. 
015:217,07@d   | Why did she seem
015:217,08@d   | so$5#1$ abstracted? He did not know how he could begin. Was she
015:217,09@d   | annoyed, too, about something? If she would only turn to$4$
015:217,10@d   | him or come to$4$ him of her own accord! To$9$ take her as she
015:217,11@d   | was would be brutal. No$7$, he must see some ardour in$4$ her
015:217,12@d   | eyes first. 
015:217,12['  ]| He longed to$9$ be master of her strange mood.
015:217,13[E  ]| ~~ When did you lend him the pound? 
015:217,13['  ]| she asked, after a
015:217,14['  ]| pause.
015:217,15['  ]| Gabriel strove to$9$ restrain himself from breaking out into
015:217,16['  ]| brutal language about the sottish Malins and his pound. He
015:217,17['  ]| longed to$9$ cry to$4$ her from his soul, to$9$ crush her body against
015:217,18['  ]| his, to$9$ overmaster her. But he said:
015:217,19[D  ]| ~~ O, at Christmas, when he opened that$6#2$ little
015:217,20[D  ]| shop in$4$ Henry*Street.
015:217,21['  ]| He was in$4$ such a fever of rage and desire that$3$ he did not
015:217,22['  ]| hear her come from the window. She stood before him for$4$
015:217,23['  ]| an instant, looking at him strangely. Then, suddenly raising
015:217,24['  ]| herself on$4$ tiptoe and resting her hands lightly on$4$ his shoulders,
015:217,25['  ]| she kissed him.
015:217,26[E  ]| ~~ You are a very generous person, Gabriel, 
015:217,26['  ]| she said.
015:217,27['  ]| Gabriel, trembling with delight at her sudden kiss and at
015:217,28['  ]| the quaintness of her phrase, put his hands on$4$ her hair and
015:217,29['  ]| began smoothing it back, scarcely touching it with his fingers.
015:217,30['  ]| The washing had made it fine and brilliant. His heart
015:217,31['  ]| was brimming over with happiness. Just when he was wishing
015:217,32['  ]| for$4$ it she had come to$4$ him of her own accord. Perhaps
015:217,33['  ]| her thoughts had been running with his. Perhaps she had felt
015:218,01['  ]| the impetuous desire that$6#1$ was in$4$ him and then the yielding
015:218,02['  ]| mood had come upon$4$ her. Now that$3$ she had fallen to$4$ him so$5#1$
015:218,03['  ]| easily he wondered why he had been so$5#1$ diffident.
015:218,04['  ]| He stood, holding her head between his hands. Then, slipping
015:218,05['  ]| one arm swiftly about her body and drawing her towards
015:218,06['  ]| him, he said softly:
015:218,07[D  ]| ~~ Gretta dear, what are you thinking about?
015:218,08['  ]| She did not answer nor yield wholly to$4$ his arm. He said
015:218,09['  ]| again, softly:
015:218,10[D  ]| ~~ Tell me what it is, Gretta. I think I know what is the matter.
015:218,11[D  ]| Do I know?
015:218,12['  ]| She did not answer at once. Then she said in$4$ an outburst of
015:218,13['  ]| tears:
015:218,14[E  ]| ~~ O, I am thinking about that$6#2$ song, \The*Lass*of*Aughrim\.
015:218,15['  ]| She broke loose from him and ran to$4$ the bed and, throwing
015:218,16['  ]| her arms across the bed-rail, hid her face. Gabriel stood stock-still
015:218,17['  ]| for$4$ a moment in$4$ astonishment and then followed her. As
015:218,18['  ]| he passed in$4$ the way of the cheval-glass he caught sight of
015:218,19['  ]| himself in$4$ full length, his broad, well-filled shirt-front, the
015:218,20['  ]| face whose expression always puzzled him when he saw it in$4$ a
015:218,21['  ]| mirror and his glimmering gilt-rimmed eyeglasses. He halted
015:218,22['  ]| a few paces from her and said:
015:218,23[D  ]| ~~ What about the song? Why does that$6#2$ make you cry?
015:218,24['  ]| She raised her head from her arms and dried her eyes with
015:218,25['  ]| the back of her hand like$4$ a child. A kinder note than he had
015:218,26['  ]| intended went into his voice.
015:218,27[D  ]| ~~ Why, Gretta? 
015:218,27['  ]| he asked.
015:218,28[E  ]| ~~ I am thinking about a person long ago who$6#1$ used to$9$ sing
015:218,29[E  ]| that$6#2$ song.
015:218,30[D  ]| ~~ And who$6#2$ was the person long ago? 
015:218,30['  ]| asked Gabriel, smiling.
015:218,31[E  ]| ~~ It was a person I used to$9$ know in$4$ Galway when I was living
015:218,32[E  ]| with my grandmother, 
015:218,32['  ]| she said.
015:218,33['  ]| The smile passed away from Gabriel's face. A dull anger
015:219,01['  ]| began to$9$ gather again at the back of his mind and the dull fires
015:219,02['  ]| of his lust began to$9$ glow angrily in$4$ his veins.
015:219,03[D  ]| ~~ Someone you were in$4$ love with? 
015:219,03['  ]| he asked ironically.
015:219,04[E  ]| ~~ It was a young boy I used to$9$ know, 
015:219,04['  ]| she answered, 
015:219,04[E  ]| named
015:219,05[E  ]| Michael*Furey. He used to$9$ sing that$6#2$ song, \The*Lass*of*Aughrim\.
015:219,06[E  ]| He was very delicate.
015:219,07['  ]| Gabriel was silent. He did not wish her to$9$ think that$3$ he
015:219,08['  ]| was interested in$4$ this delicate boy.
015:219,09[E  ]| ~~ I can see him so$5#1$ plainly, 
015:219,09['  ]| she said after a moment. 
015:219,09[E  ]| Such eyes
015:219,10[E  ]| as he had: big dark eyes! And such an expression in$4$ them ~~  an
015:219,11[E  ]| expression!
015:219,12[D  ]| ~~ O then, you were in$4$ love with him? 
015:219,12['  ]| said Gabriel.
015:219,13[E  ]| ~~ I used to$9$ go out walking with him, 
015:219,13['  ]| she said, 
015:219,13[E  ]| when I was
015:219,14[E  ]| in$4$ Galway.
015:219,15['  ]| A thought flew across Gabriel's mind.
015:219,16[D  ]| ~~ Perhaps that$6#2$ was why you wanted to$9$ go to$4$ Galway with
015:219,17[D  ]| that$6#2$ Ivors girl? 
015:219,17['  ]| he said coldly.
015:219,18['  ]| She looked at him and asked in$4$ surprise:
015:219,19[E  ]| ~~ What for$4$?
015:219,20['  ]| Her eyes made Gabriel feel awkward. He shrugged his
015:219,21['  ]| shoulders and said:
015:219,22[D  ]| ~~ How do I know? To$9$ see him perhaps.
015:219,23['  ]| She looked away from him along the shaft of light towards
015:219,24['  ]| the window in$4$ silence.
015:219,25[E  ]| ~~ He is dead, 
015:219,25['  ]| she said at length. 
015:219,25[E  ]| He died when he was only
015:219,26[E  ]| seventeen. Is not it a terrible thing to$9$ die so$5#1$ young as that$6#2$?
015:219,27[D  ]| ~~ What was he? 
015:219,27['  ]| asked Gabriel, still ironically.
015:219,28[E  ]| ~~ He was in$4$ the gasworks, 
015:219,28['  ]| she said.
015:219,29['  ]| Gabriel felt humiliated by$4$ the failure of his irony and by$4$
015:219,30['  ]| the evocation of this figure from the dead, a boy in$4$ the gasworks.
015:219,31['  ]| While he had been full of memories of their secret life
015:219,32['  ]| together, full of tenderness and joy and desire, she had been
015:219,33['  ]| comparing him in$4$ her mind with another. A shameful consciousness
015:220,01['  ]| of his own person assailed him. He saw himself as
015:220,02['  ]| a ludicrous figure, acting as a pennyboy for$4$ his aunts, a nervous
015:220,03['  ]| well-meaning sentimentalist, orating to$4$ vulgarians and
015:220,04['  ]| idealising his own clownish lusts, the pitiable fatuous fellow
015:220,05['  ]| he had caught a glimpse of in$4$ the mirror. Instinctively he
015:220,06['  ]| turned his back more to$4$ the light lest she might see the shame
015:220,07['  ]| that$6#1$ burned upon$4$ his forehead.
015:220,08['  ]| He tried to$9$ keep up$5$ his tone of cold interrogation but his
015:220,09['  ]| voice when he spoke was humble and indifferent.
015:220,10[D  ]| ~~ I suppose you were in$4$ love with this Michael*Furey, Gretta,
015:220,11['  ]| he said.
015:220,12[E  ]| ~~ I was great with him at that$6#2$ time, 
015:220,12['  ]| she said.
015:220,13['  ]| Her voice was veiled and sad. Gabriel, feeling now how
015:220,14['  ]| vain it would be to$9$ try to$9$ lead her whither he had purposed,
015:220,15['  ]| caressed one of her hands and said, also sadly:
015:220,16[D  ]| ~~ And what did he die of so$5#1$ young, Gretta? Consumption,
015:220,17[D  ]| was it?
015:220,18[E  ]| ~~ I think he died for$4$ me, 
015:220,18['  ]| she answered.
015:220,19['  ]| A vague terror seized Gabriel at this answer as if, at that$6#2$
015:220,20['  ]| hour when he had hoped to$9$ triumph, some impalpable and
015:220,21['  ]| vindictive being was coming against him, gathering forces
015:220,22['  ]| against him in$4$ its vague world. But he shook himself free of
015:220,23['  ]| it with an effort of reason and continued to$9$ caress her hand.
015:220,24['  ]| He did not question her again for$3$ he felt that$3$ she would tell
015:220,25['  ]| him of herself. Her hand was warm and moist: it did not respond
015:220,26['  ]| to$4$ his touch but he continued to$9$ caress it just as he had
015:220,27['  ]| caressed her first letter to$4$ him that$6#2$ spring morning.
015:220,28[E  ]| ~~ It was in$4$ the winter, she said, 
015:220,28[E  ]| about the beginning of the
015:220,29[E  ]| winter when I was going to$9$ leave my grandmother's and come
015:220,30[E  ]| up$5$ here to$4$ the convent. And he was ill at the time in$4$ his lodgings
015:220,31[E  ]| in$4$ Galway and would not be let out and his people in$4$
015:220,32[E  ]| Oughterard were written to$5$. He was in$4$ decline, they said, or
015:220,33[E  ]| something like$4$ that$6#2$. I never knew rightly.
015:221,01['  ]| She paused for$4$ a moment and sighed.
015:221,02[E  ]| ~~ Poor fellow, 
015:221,02['  ]| she said. 
015:221,02[E  ]| He was very fond of me and he
015:221,03[E  ]| was such a gentle boy. We used to$9$ go out together, walking,
015:221,04[E  ]| you know, Gabriel, like$4$ the way they do in$4$ the country. He
015:221,05[E  ]| was going to$9$ study singing only for$4$ his health. He had a very
015:221,06[E  ]| good voice, poor Michael*Furey.
015:221,07[D  ]| ~~ Well; and then? 
015:221,07['  ]| asked Gabriel.
015:221,08[E  ]| ~~ And then when it came to$4$ the time for$4$ me to$9$ leave Galway
015:221,09[E  ]| and come up$5$ to$4$ the convent he was much worse and I
015:221,10[E  ]| would not be let see him so$3$ I wrote a letter saying I was going
015:221,11[E  ]| up$5$ to$4$ Dublin and would be back in$4$ the summer and hoping
015:221,12[E  ]| he would be better then.
015:221,13['  ]| She paused for$4$ a moment to$9$ get her voice under control
015:221,14['  ]| and then went on$5$:
015:221,15[E  ]| ~~ Then the night before I left I was in$4$ my grandmother's
015:221,16[E  ]| house in$4$ Nun's*Island, packing up$5$, and I heard gravel thrown
015:221,17[E  ]| up$5$ against the window. The window was so$5#1$ wet I could not see
015:221,18[E  ]| so$3$ I ran downstairs as I was and slipped out the back into the
015:221,19[E  ]| garden and there was the poor fellow at the end of the garden,
015:221,20[E  ]| shivering.
015:221,21[D  ]| ~~ And did you not tell him to$9$ go back? 
015:221,21['  ]| asked Gabriel.
015:221,22[E  ]| ~~ I implored of him to$9$ go home at once and told him he
015:221,23[E  ]| would get his death in$4$ the rain. But he said he did not want
015:221,24[E  ]| to$9$ live. I can see his eyes as well as well! He was standing at
015:221,25[E  ]| the end of the wall where there was a tree.
015:221,26[D  ]| ~~ And did he go home? 
015:221,26['  ]| asked Gabriel.
015:221,27[E  ]| ~~ Yes, he went home. And when I was only a week in$4$ the
015:221,28[E  ]| convent he died and he was buried in$4$ Oughterard where his
015:221,29[E  ]| people came from. O, the day I heard that$6#2$, that$3$ he was
015:221,30[E  ]| dead!
015:221,31['  ]| She stopped, choking with sobs, and, overcome by$4$ emotion,
015:221,32['  ]| flung herself face downward on$4$ the bed, sobbing in$4$ the
015:221,33['  ]| quilt. Gabriel held her hand for$4$ a moment longer, irresolutely,
015:222,01['  ]| and then, shy of intruding on$4$ her grief, let it fall gently and
015:222,02['  ]| walked quietly to$4$ the window.
015:222,03['  ]| 
015:222,04['  ]| She was fast asleep.
015:222,05['  ]| Gabriel, leaning on$4$ his elbow, looked for$4$ a few moments
015:222,06['  ]| unresentfully on$4$ her tangled hair and half-open mouth, listening
015:222,07['  ]| to$4$ her deep-drawn breath. So$3$ she had had that$6#2$ romance
015:222,08['  ]| in$4$ her life: a man had died for$4$ her sake. It hardly pained him
015:222,09['  ]| now to$9$ think how poor a part he, her husband, had played in$4$
015:222,10['  ]| her life. He watched her while she slept as though he and she
015:222,11['  ]| had never lived together as man and wife. His curious eyes
015:222,12['  ]| rested long upon$4$ her face and on$4$ her hair: and, as he thought of
015:222,13['  ]| what she must have been then, in$4$ that$6#2$ time of her first girlish
015:222,14['  ]| beauty, a strange friendly pity for$4$ her entered his soul. He did
015:222,15['  ]| not like$1$ to$9$ say even to$4$ himself that$3$ her face was no$2$ longer beautiful
015:222,16['  ]| but he knew that$3$ it was no$2$ longer the face for$4$ which$6#1$ Michael*Furey 
015:222,17['  ]| had braved death.
015:222,18['  ]| Perhaps she had not told him all the story. His eyes moved
015:222,19['  ]| to$4$ the chair over which$6#1$ she had thrown some of her clothes.
015:222,20['  ]| A petticoat string dangled to$4$ the floor. One boot stood upright,
015:222,21['  ]| its limp upper fallen down: the fellow of it lay upon$4$ its
015:222,22['  ]| side. He wondered at his riot of emotions of an hour before.
015:222,23['  ]| From what had it proceeded? From his aunt's supper, from his
015:222,24['  ]| own foolish speech, from the wine and dancing, the merry-making
015:222,25['  ]| when saying good-night in$4$ the hall, the pleasure of
015:222,26['  ]| the walk along the river in$4$ the snow. Poor Aunt*Julia! She,
015:222,27['  ]| too, would soon be a shade with the shade of Patrick*Morkan
015:222,28['  ]| and his horse. He had caught that$6#2$ haggard look upon$4$ her face
015:222,29['  ]| for$4$ a moment when she was singing \Arrayed*for*the*Bridal\.
015:222,30['  ]| Soon, perhaps, he would be sitting in$4$ that$6#2$ same drawing-room,
015:222,31['  ]| dressed in$4$ black, his silk hat on$4$ his knees. The blinds would be
015:222,32['  ]| drawn down and Aunt*Kate would be sitting beside him,
015:222,33['  ]| crying and blowing her nose and telling him how Julia had
015:223,01['  ]| died. He would cast about in$4$ his mind for$4$ some words that$6#1$
015:223,02['  ]| might console her, and would find only lame and useless ones.
015:223,03['  ]| Yes, yes: that$6#2$ would happen very soon.
015:223,04['  ]| The air of the room chilled his shoulders. He stretched himself
015:223,05['  ]| cautiously along under the sheets and lay down beside his
015:223,06['  ]| wife. One by$4$ one they were all becoming shades. Better pass
015:223,07['  ]| boldly into that$6#2$ other world, in$4$ the full glory of some passion,
015:223,08['  ]| than fade and wither dismally with age. He thought of how
015:223,09['  ]| she who$6#1$ lay beside him had locked in$4$ her heart for$4$ so$5#1$ many
015:223,10['  ]| years that$6#2$ image of her lover's eyes when he had told her that$3$
015:223,11['  ]| he did not wish to$9$ live.
015:223,12['  ]| Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like$4$
015:223,13['  ]| that$6#2$ himself towards any woman but he knew that$3$ such a feeling
015:223,14['  ]| must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in$4$ his eyes
015:223,15['  ]| and in$4$ the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a
015:223,16['  ]| young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were
015:223,17['  ]| near. His soul had approached that$6#2$ region where dwell the
015:223,18['  ]| vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend,
015:223,19['  ]| their wayward and flickering existence. His own
015:223,20['  ]| identity was fading out into a grey impalpable world: the solid
015:223,21['  ]| world itself which$6#1$ these dead had one time reared and lived in$4$
015:223,22['  ]| was dissolving and dwindling.
015:223,23['  ]| A few light taps on$4$ the pane made him turn to$4$ the window .
015:223,24['  ]| It had begun to$9$ snow again. He watched sleepily the
015:223,25['  ]| flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight.
015:223,26['  ]| The time had come for$4$ him to$9$ set out on$4$ his journey westward.
015:223,27['  ]| Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all
015:223,28['  ]| over Ireland. It was falling on$4$ every part of the dark central
015:223,29['  ]| plain, on$4$ the treeless hills, falling softly upon$4$ the Bog of Allen
015:223,30['  ]| and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous
015:223,31['  ]| Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon$4$ every part of the
015:223,32['  ]| lonely churchyard on$4$ the hill where Michael*Furey lay buried.
015:223,33['  ]| It lay thickly drifted on$4$ the crooked crosses and headstones,
015:224,01['  ]| on$4$ the spears of the little gate, on$4$ the barren thorns. His soul
015:224,02['  ]| swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through
015:224,03['  ]| the universe and faintly falling, like$4$ the descent of their last
015:224,04['  ]| end, upon$4$ all the living and the dead.