―How are you, Dedalus?

―Well. And yourself?

J. J. O’Molloy shook his head.

Sad

Cleverest fellow at the junior bar he used to be. Decline poor chap. That hectic flush spells finis for a man. Touch and go with him. What’s in the wind, I wonder. Money worry.

― Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.

―You’re looking extra.

―Is the editor to be seen? J. J. O’Molloy asked, looking towards the inner door.