Stephen’s heart jumped suddenly.

―Dedalus, sir.

―Why are you not writing like the others?

―I⁠ ⁠… my⁠ ⁠…

He could not speak with fright.

―Why is he not writing, Father Arnall?

―He broke his glasses, said Father Arnall, and I exempted him from work.

―Broke? What is this I hear? What is this? Your name is? said the prefect of studies.

―Dedalus, sir.

―Out here, Dedalus. Lazy little schemer. I see schemer in your face. Where did you break your glasses?