―Shakespeare? he said. I seem to know the name.

A flying sunny smile rayed in his loose features.

―To be sure, he said, remembering brightly. The chap that writes like Synge.

Mr Best turned to him:

―Haines missed you, he said. Did you meet him? He’ll see you after at the D. B. C. He’s gone to Gill’s to buy Hyde’s Lovesongs of Connacht .

―I came through the museum, Buck Mulligan said. Was he here?