"I'm too busy," said Pat. "I can't be bothered. We're just going to run the Suburban Handicap, That costs fifty cents for each horse."
As the balls were shoved away Pat raced down the table with them shouting, "Come on Ulysses. Come on James Joyce." He ran over to Peter with a handful of coins. "Ulysses won," he said, "and James Joyce was second."
"What do you call them that for?"
"They're named after a book I've been reading."
Peter was about to head up town, but Pat urged him to stay. "Stick around awhile," he said, "as soon as Nick Carter shows up the quartette's going to have a concert."
"What quartette?"
"Oh just me and three other fellows. We're pretty good. At least I am. We get in a few swipes almost every night."
"Are you still going to the opera so much?" asked Peter anxiously.
"No, I haven't had any time. There isn't any opera now anyway but it's almost a year since I've been."
"Have you heard from Maria lately?"