too close.  A week ago she lay ill, four days on the couch, but today she was free, blithe, mocked at peril.  She is more taking then.  Her posies tool Mad romp that she is, she had pulled her fill as we reclined together.  And in your ear, my friend, you will not think who met us as we left the field.  Conmee himself!  He was walking by the hedge, reading, I think a brevier book with, I doubt not, a witty letter in it from Glycera or Chloe to keep the page.  The sweet creature turned all colours in her confusion, feigning to reprove a slight disorder in her dress:  a slip of underwood clung there for the very trees adore her.  When Conmee had passed she glanced at her lovely echo in that little mirror she carries.  But he had been kind.  In going by he had blessed us.  The gods too are ever kind, Lenehan said.  If I had poor luck with Bass’s mare perhaps this draught of his may serve me more propensely.  He was laying his hand upon a winejar:  Malachi saw it and withheld his act, pointing to the stranger and to the scarlet label.  Warily, Malachi whispered, preserve a druid silence.  His soul is far away.  It is as painful perhaps to be awakened from a vision as to be born.  Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eon of the gods.  Do you not think it, Stephen?  Theosophos told me so, Stephen answered, whom in a previous existence Egyptian priests initiated into the mysteries of karmic law.  The lords of the moon, Theosophos told me, an orangefiery shipload from planet Alpha of the lunar chain would not assume the etheric doubles and these were therefore incarnated by the rubycoloured egos from the second constellation.

However, as a matter of fact though, the preposterous surmise about him being in some description of a doldrums or other or mesmerised which was. entirely due to a misconception of the shallowest character, was not the case at all.  The individual whose visual organs while the above was going on were at this juncture commencing to exhibit symptoms of animation was as astute if not astuter than any man living and anybody that conjectured the contrary would have found themselves pretty speedily in the wrong shop.  During the past four minutes or thereabouts he had been staring hard at a certain amount of number one Bass bottled by Messrs Bass and Co at Burton-on-Trent which happened to be situated amongst a lot of others right opposite to where he was and which was certainly calculated to attract anyone’s remark on account of its scarlet appearance.  He was simply and solely, as it subsequently transpired for reasons best known to himself, which put quite an altogether different complexion on the proceedings, after the moment before’s observations about boyhood days and the turf, recollecting two or three private transactions of his own which the other two were as mutually innocent of as the babe unborn.  Eventually, however, both their eyes met and as soon as it began to dawn on him that the other was endeavouring to help himself to the thing he involuntarily determined to help him himself and so he accordingly took hold of the neck of the mediumsized glass recipient which contained the fluid sought after and made a capacious hole in it by pouring a lot of it out with, also at the same time, however, a considerable degree of attentiveness in order not to upset any of the beer that was in it about the place.