—Lord Leitrim's coachman, yes, said Mr Dedalus.
—They are the Lord's anointed, Dante said. They are an honour to their country.
—Tub of guts, said Mr Dedalus coarsely. He has a handsome face, mind you, in repose. You should see that fellow lapping up his bacon and cabbage of a cold winter's day. O Johnny!
He twisted his features into a grimace of heavy bestiality and made a lapping noise with his lips.