When we returned to the street light from the kitchen windows had filled the areas.

Mangan’s sister came out on the doorstep to call her brother in to his tea we watched her from our shadow peer up and down the street

An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground.

waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers. Among these I found a few paper-covered books

is will he had left all his money to institutions and the furniture of his house to his sister

books of poetry upon his shelves at home

She flung her parcels on the floor and snatched the child from him

clasping the child tightly in her arms and murmuring

But shyness had always held him back

He felt acutely the contrast between his own life and his friend’s

He tried to weigh his soul

The day had grown sultry

We walked along the North Strand Road

How my heart beat as he came running across the field to me!

I went up the slope calmly but my heart was beating quickly with fear that he would seize me by the ankles.

He seemed to be fairly old for his moustache was ashen-grey

We spent a long time walking about the noisy streets flanked by high stone walls, watching the working of cranes and engines and often being shouted at for our immobility by the drivers of groaning carts.

That night I slept badly. In the morning I was first-comer to the bridge as I lived nearest. I hid my books in the long grass near the ashpit at the end of the garden where nobody ever came and hurried along the canal bank.

He ate his food greedily and found it so good that he made a note of the shop mentally.

He spoke roughly in order to belie his air of gentility for his entry had been followed by a pause of talk.

At the corner of Hume Street a young woman was standing. She wore a blue dress and a white sailor hat.

Like illumined pearls the lamps shone from the summits of their tall poles upon the living texture below which, changing shape and hue unceasingly, sent up into the warm grey evening air an unchanging unceasing murmur

The two young men walked up the street without speaking, the mournful music following them.