Lenehan walked as far as the Shelbourne Hotel where he halted and waited.  After waiting for a little time he saw them coming towards him and, when they turned to the right, he followed them, stepping lightly in his white shoes, down one side of Merrion Square.  As he walked on slowly, timing his pace to theirs, he watched Corley’s head which turned at every moment towards the young woman’s face like a big ball revolving on a pivot.  He kept the pair in view until he had seen them climbing the stairs of the Donnybrook tram; then he turned about and went back the way he had come.

Now that he was alone his face looked older.  His gaiety seemed to forsake him and, as he came by the railings of the Duke’s Lawn, he allowed his hand to run along them.  The air which the harpist had played began to control his movements His softly padded feet played the melody while his fingers swept a scale of variations idly along the railings after each group of notes.

He walked listlessly round Stephen’s Green and then down Grafton Street.  Though his eyes took note of many elements of the crowd through which he passed they did so morosely.  He found trivial all that was meant to charm him and did not answer the glances which invited him to be bold.  He knew that he would have to speak a great deal, to invent and to amuse and his brain and throat were too dry for such a task.  The problem of how he could pass the hours till he met Corley again troubled him a little.  He could think of no way of passing them but to keep on walking.  He turned to the left when he came to the corner of Rutland Square and felt more at ease in the dark quiet street, the sombre look of which suited his mood.  He paused at last before the window of a poor-looking shop over which the words Refreshment Bar were printed in white letters.  On the glass of the window were two flying inscriptions:  Ginger Beer and Ginger Ale.  A cut ham was exposed on a great blue dish while near it on a plate lay a segment of very light plum-pudding.  He eyed this food earnestly for some time and then, after glancing warily up and down the street, went into the shop quickly.

He was hungry for, except some biscuits which he had asked two grudging curates to bring him, he had eaten nothing since breakfast-time.  He sat down at an uncovered wooden table opposite two work-girls and a mechanic.  A slatternly girl waited on him.

“How much is a plate of peas?” he asked.

“Three halfpence, sir,” said the girl.

“Bring me a plate of peas,” he said, “and a bottle of ginger beer.”