He had walked the streets long

enough with friends and with girls. He knew what those friends

were worth: he knew the girls too. Experience had embittered his

heart against the world. But all hope had not left him. He felt

better after having eaten than he had felt before, less weary of his

life, less vanquished in spirit. He might yet be able to settle down

in some snug corner and live happily if he could only come across

some good simple-minded girl with a little of the ready.


He paid twopence halfpenny to the slatternly girl and went out of

the shop to begin his wandering again. He went into Capel Street

and walked along towards the City Hall. Then he turned into Dame

Street. At the corner of George's Street he met two friends of his

and stopped to converse with them. He was glad that he could rest

from all his walking. His friends asked him had he seen Corley and

what was the latest. He replied that he had spent the day with

Corley. His friends talked very little. They looked vacantly after

some figures in the crowd and sometimes made a critical remark.

One said that he had seen Mac an hour before in Westmoreland

Street. At this Lenehan said that he had been with Mac the night

before in Egan's. The young man who had seen Mac in

Westmoreland Street asked was it true that Mac had won a bit over

a billiard match. Lenehan did not know: he said that Holohan had

stood them drinks in Egan's.


He left his friends at a quarter to ten and went up George's Street.

He turned to the left at the City Markets and walked on into

Grafton Street. The crowd of girls and young men had thinned and

on his way up the street he heard many groups and couples bidding

one another good-night. He went as far as the clock of the College

of Surgeons: it was on the stroke of ten. He set off briskly along

the northern side of the Green hurrying for fear Corley should

return too soon. When he reached the corner of Merrion Street he

took his stand in the shadow of a lamp and brought out one of the

cigarettes which he had reserved and lit it. He leaned against the

lamp-post and kept his gaze fixed on the part from which he

expected to see Corley and the young woman return.


His mind became active again. He wondered had Corley managed

it successfully. He wondered if he had asked her yet or if he would

leave it to the last. He suffered all the pangs and thrills of his

friend's situation as well as those of his own. But the memory of

Corley's slowly revolving head calmed him somewhat: he was sure

Corley would pull it off all right. All at once the idea struck him

that perhaps Corley had seen her home by another way and given

him the slip. His eyes searched the street: there was no sign of

them. Yet it was surely half-an-hour since he had seen the clock of

the College of Surgeons. Would Corley do a thing like that? He lit

his last cigarette and began to smoke it nervously.