Page 448 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

—Decent little soul he was, Mr Power said to the
stalwart back of long John Fanning ascending towards long
John Fanning in the mirror.
—Rather lowsized. Dignam of Menton’s office that

was, Martin Cunningham said.
Long John Fanning could not remember him.
Clatter of horsehoofs sounded from the air.
—What’s that? Martin Cunningham said.
All turned where they stood. John Wyse Nolan came
down again. From the cool shadow of the doorway he
saw the horses pass Parliament street, harness and glossy
pasterns in sunlight shimmering. Gaily they went past
before his cool unfriendly eyes, not quickly. In saddles of
the leaders, leaping leaders, rode outriders.
—What was it? Martin Cunningham asked, as they
went on up the staircase.
—The lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of
Ireland, John Wyse Nolan answered from the stairfoot.

* * * * *

As they trod across the thick carpet Buck Mulligan
whispered behind his Panama to Haines:
—Parnell’s brother. There in the corner.

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