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1The grey warm evening of August had descended upon the city and a mild warm air, a memory of summer, circulated in the
2streets. The streets, shuttered for the repose of Sunday, swarmed with a gaily coloured crowd. Like illumined pearls the
3lamps shone from the summits of their tall poles upon the living texture below which, changing shape and hue
4unceasingly, sent up into the warm grey evening air an unchanging unceasing murmur. Two young men came down the hill of
5Rutland Square. One of them was just bringing a long monologue to a close. The other, who walked on the verge of the
6path and was at times obliged to step on to the road, owing to his companion's rudeness, wore an amused listening face.
7He was squat and ruddy. A yachting cap was shoved far back from his forehead and the narrative to which he listened made
8constant waves of expression break forth over his face from the corners of his nose and eyes and mouth. Little jets of
9wheezing laughter followed one another out of his convulsed body. His eyes, twinkling with cunning enjoyment, glanced at
10every moment towards his companion's face. Once or twice he rearranged the light waterproof which he had slung over one
11shoulder in toreador fashion. His breeches, his white rubber shoes and his jauntily slung waterproof expressed youth.
12But his figure fell into rotundity at the waist, his hair was scant and grey and his face, when the waves of expression
13had passed over it, had a ravaged look. When he was quite sure that the narrative had ended he laughed noiselessly for
14fully half a minute. Then he said: "Well!... That takes the biscuit!" His voice seemed winnowed of vigour; and to
15enforce his words he added with humour: "That takes the solitary, unique, and, if I may so call it, recherché biscuit!"
16He became serious and silent when he had said this. His tongue was tired for he had been talking all the afternoon in a
17public-house in Dorset Street. Most people considered Lenehan a leech but, in spite of this reputation, his adroitness
18and eloquence had always prevented his friends from forming any general policy against him. He had a brave manner of
19coming up to a party of them in a bar and of holding himself nimbly at the borders of the company until he was included
20in a round. He was a sporting vagrant armed with a vast stock of stories, limericks and riddles. He was insensitive to
21all kinds of discourtesy. No one knew how he achieved the stern task of living, but his name was vaguely associated with
22racing tissues. "And where did you pick her up, Corley?" he asked. Corley ran his tongue swiftly along his upper lip.
23"One night, man," he said, "I was going along Dame Street and I spotted a fine tart under Waterhouse's clock and said
24good-night, you know. So we went for a walk round by the canal and she told me she was a slavey in a house in Baggot
25Street. I put my arm round her and squeezed her a bit that night. Then next Sunday, man, I met her by appointment. We
26went out to Donnybrook and I brought her into a field there. She told me she used to go with a dairyman.... It was fine,
27man. Cigarettes every night she'd bring me and paying the tram out and back. And one night she brought me two bloody
28fine cigars--O, the real cheese, you know, that the old fellow used to smoke.... I was afraid, man, she'd get in the
29family way. But she's up to the dodge." "Maybe she thinks you'll marry her," said Lenehan. "I told her I was out of a
30job," said Corley. "I told her I was in Pim's. She doesn't know my name. I was too hairy to tell her that. But she
31thinks I'm a bit of class, you know." Lenehan laughed again, noiselessly. "Of all the good ones ever I heard," he said,
32"that emphatically takes the biscuit." Corley's stride acknowledged the compliment. The swing of his burly body made his
33friend execute a few light skips from the path to the roadway and back again. Corley was the son of an inspector of
34police and he had inherited his father's frame and gait. He walked with his hands by his sides, holding himself erect
35and swaying his head from side to side. His head was large, globular and oily; it sweated in all weathers; and his large
36round hat, set upon it sideways, looked like a bulb which had grown out of another. He always stared straight before him
37as if he were on parade and, when he wished to gaze after someone in the street, it was necessary for him to move his
38body from the hips. At present he was about town. Whenever any job was vacant a friend was always ready to give him the
39hard word. He was often to be seen walking with policemen in plain clothes, talking earnestly. He knew the inner side of
40all affairs and was fond of delivering final judgments. He spoke without listening to the speech of his companions. His
41conversation was mainly about himself: what he had said to such a person and what such a person had said to him and what
42he had said to settle the matter. When he reported these dialogues he aspirated the first letter of his name after the
43manner of Florentines. Lenehan offered his friend a cigarette. As the two young men walked on through the crowd Corley
44occasionally turned to smile at some of the passing girls but Lenehan's gaze was fixed on the large faint moon circled
45with a double halo. He watched earnestly the passing of the grey web of twilight across its face. At length he said:
46"Well ... tell me, Corley, I suppose you'll be able to pull it off all right, eh?" Corley closed one eye expressively as
47an answer. "Is she game for that?" asked Lenehan dubiously. "You can never know women." "She's all right," said Corley.
48"I know the way to get around her, man. She's a bit gone on me." "You're what I call a gay Lothario," said Lenehan. "And
49the proper kind of a Lothario, too!" A shade of mockery relieved the servility of his manner. To save himself he had the
50habit of leaving his flattery open to the interpretation of raillery. But Corley had not a subtle mind. "There's nothing
51to touch a good slavey," he affirmed. "Take my tip for it." "By one who has tried them all," said Lenehan. "First I used
52to go with girls, you know," said Corley, unbosoming; "girls off the South Circular. I used to take them out, man, on
53the tram somewhere and pay the tram or take them to a band or a play at the theatre or buy them chocolate and sweets or
54something that way. I used to spend money on them right enough," he added, in a convincing tone, as if he was conscious
55of being disbelieved. But Lenehan could well believe it; he nodded gravely. "I know that game," he said, "and it's a
56mug's game." "And damn the thing I ever got out of it," said Corley. "Ditto here," said Lenehan. "Only off of one of
57them," said Corley. He moistened his upper lip by running his tongue along it. The recollection brightened his eyes. He
58too gazed at the pale disc of the moon, now nearly veiled, and seemed to meditate. "She was ... a bit of all right," he
59said regretfully. He was silent again. Then he added: "She's on the turf now. I saw her driving down Earl Street one
60night with two fellows with her on a car." "I suppose that's your doing," said Lenehan. "There was others at her before
61me," said Corley philosophically. This time Lenehan was inclined to disbelieve. He shook his head to and fro and smiled.
62"You know you can't kid me, Corley," he said. "Honest to God!" said Corley. "Didn't she tell me herself?" Lenehan made a
63tragic gesture. "Base betrayer!" he said. As they passed along the railings of Trinity College, Lenehan skipped out into
64the road and peered up at the clock. "Twenty after," he said. "Time enough," said Corley. "She'll be there all right. I
65always let her wait a bit." Lenehan laughed quietly. "Ecod! Corley, you know how to take them," he said. "I'm up to all
66their little tricks," Corley confessed. "But tell me," said Lenehan again, "are you sure you can bring it off all right?
67You know it's a ticklish job. They're damn close on that point. Eh?... What?" His bright, small eyes searched his
68companion's face for reassurance. Corley swung his head to and fro as if to toss aside an insistent insect, and his
69brows gathered.
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