I wish you would have smiled in the bakery Or sat on a tatty settee At a mutual friend's gathering

--Don't you know he's dead? says Joe. --Paddy Dignam dead! says Alf. --Ay, says Joe. --Sure I'm after seeing him not five minutes ago, says Alf, as plain as a pikestaff. --Who's dead? says Bob Doran. --You saw his ghost then, says Joe, God between us and harm.

The two populations must learn to live with each other on equal terms.

The frothing sensation bubbled him all over, a boiling without heat or any sound or light.