--Parnell! Parnell! He is dead!
They fell upon their knees, moaning in sorrow.
And he saw Dante in a maroon velvet dress and with a green velvet
mantle hanging from her shoulders walking proudly and silently past the
people who knelt by the water's edge.
* * * * *
A great fire, banked high and red, flamed in the grate and under the
ivy-twined branches of the chandelier the Christmas table was spread.
They had come home a little late and still dinner was not ready: but it
would be ready in a jiffy his mother had said. They were waiting for
the door to open and for the servants to come in, holding the big
dishes covered with their heavy metal covers.
All were waiting: uncle Charles, who sat far away in the shadow of the
window, Dante and Mr Casey, who sat in the easy-chairs at either side
of the hearth, Stephen, seated on a chair between them, his feet
resting on the toasted boss. Mr Dedalus looked at himself in the
pierglass above the mantelpiece, waxed out his moustache ends and then,
parting his coat-tails, stood with his back to the glowing fire: and
still from time to time he withdrew a hand from his coat-tail to wax
out one of his moustache ends. Mr Casey leaned his head to one side
and, smiling, tapped the gland of his neck with his fingers.
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