--Well, I hope they haven't moved the Queen's College anyhow, said Mr Dedalus, for I want to show it to this youngster of mine. Then Jack Lawton cracked his fingers and Father Arnall looked at his copybook and said: --Right. The place, with its gray sky and withered garlands, its bared spaces and scattered dead leaves, was like a theater after the performance-- all strewn with crumpled playbills. Eileen had long thin cool white hands too because she was a girl.
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