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(Comes to the table.) Cigarette, please. (Lynch tosses a cigarette from the sofa to the table.) And so Georgina Johnson is dead and married. (A cigarette appears on the table. Stephen looks at it.) Wonder. Parlour magic. Married. Hm. (He strikes a match and proceeds to light the cigarette with enigmatic melancholy.)

(Watching him.) You would have a better chance of lighting it if you held the match nearer.

(Brings the match nearer his eye.) Lynx eye. Must get glasses. Broke them yesterday. Sixteen years ago. Distance. The eye sees all flat. (He draws the match away. It goes out.) Brain thinks. Near: far. Ineluctable modality of the visible. (He frowns mysteriously.) Hm. Sphinx. The beast that has two backs at midnight. Married.

It was a commercial traveller married her and took her away with him.

(Nods.) Mr Lambe from London.

Lamb of London, who takest away the sins of our world.

(Embracing Kitty on the sofa, chants deeply.) Dona nobis pacem.

Don’t smoke. You ought to eat. Cursed dog I met. (To Zoe.) You have nothing?

Is he hungry?