life is the great
Stephen rustled the sheets again.
―As regards these, he began.
―Yes, Mr Deasy said. You have two copies there. If you can have them published at once.
Telegraph . Irish Homestead .
―I will try, Stephen said, and let you know tomorrow. I know two editors slightly.
―That will do, Mr Deasy said briskly. I wrote last night to Mr Field, M. P. There is a meeting of the cattletraders’ association today at the City Arms Hotel. I asked him to lay my letter before the meeting. You see if you can get it into your two papers. What are they?
― The Evening Telegraph …
―That will do, Mr Deasy said. There is no time to lose. Now I have to answer that letter from my cousin.
―Good morning, sir, Stephen said, putting the sheets in his pocket. Thank you.
―Not at all, Mr Deasy said as he searched the papers on his desk. I like to break a lance with you, old as I am.
―Good morning, sir, Stephen said again, bowing to his bent back.
He went out by the open porch and down the gravel path under the trees, hearing the cries