When you told me that night in Harcourt Street those things about your private life, honest to God, Stevie, I was not able to eat my dinner. Was it not a mental spectre of the face of one of the jesuits whom some of the boys called Lantern Jaws and others Foxy Campbell? He was passing at that moment before the jesuit house in Gardiner Street and wondered vaguely which window would be his if he ever joined the order. How strange to think of him passing out of existence in such a way, not by death but by fading out in the sun or by being lost and forgotten somewhere in the universe! It was strange to see his small body appear again for a moment: a little boy in a grey belted suit. "Isn't that woman always without one?" "She's with HER?" "She's with HER!" I declared.
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