and your Paris fads, Buck Mulligan said. I want Sandycove milk.
Haines came in from the doorway and said quietly:
―That woman is coming up with the milk.
―The blessings of God on you, Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his chair.
- Sit down.
- Pour out the tea there.
- The sugar is in the bag.
Here, I can’t go fumbling at the damned eggs. He hacked through the fry on the dish and slapped it out on three plates, saying:
― In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.
Haines sat down to pour out the tea.
―I’m giving you two lumps each, he said. But,