Mr. Casey raised his clenched fist and brought it down on the table with a crash.
―Very well then, he shouted hoarsely, if it comes to that, no God for Ireland!
―John! John! cried Mr. Dedalus, seizing his guest by the coat sleeve.
Dante stared across the table, her cheeks shaking. Mr. Casey struggled up from his chair and bent across the table towards her, scraping the air from before his eyes with one hand as though he were tearing aside a cobweb.
―No God for Ireland! he cried. We have had too much God in Ireland. Away with God!
―Blasphemer! Devil! screamed Dante, starting to her feet and almost spitting in his face.
Uncle Charles and Mr. Dedalus pulled Mr. Casey back into his chair again, talking to him from both sides reasonably. He stared before him out of his dark flaming eyes, repeating:
―Away with God, I say!
Dante shoved her chair violently aside and left the table, upsetting her napkinring which rolled slowly along the carpet and came to rest against the foot of an easychair. Mrs. Dedalus rose quickly and followed her towards the door. At the door Dante turned round violently and shouted down the room, her cheeks flushed and quivering with rage:
―Devil out of hell! We won! We crushed him to death! Fiend!
The door slammed behind her.