Улисс

           Thevestaintheclergyman’supliftedhandconsumeditselfinalongsoftflameandwasletfall.Attheirfeetitsredspeckdied:andmouldyairclosedroundthem.

           —Howinteresting!arefinedaccentsaidinthegloom.

           —Yes,sir,NedLambertsaidheartily.WearestandinginthehistoriccouncilchamberofsaintMary’sabbeywheresilkenThomasproclaimedhimselfarebelin1534.ThisisthemosthistoricspotinallDublin.O’MaddenBurkeisgoingtowritesomethingaboutitoneofthesedays.TheoldbankofIrelandwasoverthewaytillthetimeoftheunionandtheoriginaljews’templewasheretoobeforetheybuilttheirsynagogueoverinAdelaideroad.Youwereneverherebefore,Jack,wereyou?

           —No,Ned.

           —HerodedownthroughDamewalk,therefinedaccentsaid,ifmymemoryservesme.ThemansionoftheKildareswasinThomascourt.

           —That’sright,NedLambertsaid.That’squiteright,sir.

           —Ifyouwillbesokindthen,theclergymansaid,thenexttimetoallowmeperhaps...

           —Certainly,NedLambertsaid.Bringthecamerawheneveryoulike.I’llgetthosebagsclearedawayfromthewindows.Youcantakeitfromhereorfromhere.

           Inthestillfaintlighthemovedabout,tappingwithhislaththepiledseedbagsandpointsofvantageonthefloor.

           Fromalongfaceabeardandgazehungonachessboard.

           —I’mdeeplyobliged,MrLambert,theclergymansaid.Iwon’ttrespassonyourvaluabletime...

           —You’rewelcome,sir,NedLambertsaid.Dropinwheneveryoulike.Nextweek,say.Canyousee?

           —Yes,yes.Goodafternoon,MrLambert.Verypleasedtohavemetyou.