The letters of the name of Dublin lay heavily upon his mind, pushing one another surlily hither and thither with slow boorish insistence. He was in one of the angles, the one away from the house, very erect, as it struck me, and with both hands on the ledge. --Ay, bedad! And there's the Groceries sure enough! cried Mr Dedalus. Their dull piety and the sickly smell of the cheap hair-oil with which they had anointed their heads repelled him from the altar they prayed at.
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