Stephen, moving away the bystanders, jerked his shoulder angrily in the direction of the Tsar’s image, saying:
—Keep your icon. If we must have a Jesus let us have a legitimate Jesus.
—By hell, that’s a good one! said the gipsy student to those about him, that’s a fine expression. I like that expression immensely.
He gulped down the spittle in his throat as if he were gulping down the phrase and, fumbling at the peak of his tweed cap, turned to Stephen, saying:
—Excuse me, sir, what do you mean by that expression you uttered just now?
Feeling himself jostled by the students near him, he said to them:
—I am curious to know now what he meant by that expression.
He turned again to Stephen and said in a whisper:
—Do you believe in Jesus? I believe in man. Of course, I don’t know if you believe in man. I admire you, sir. I admire the mind of man independent of all religions. Is that your opinion about the mind of Jesus?
—Go on, Temple, said the stout ruddy student, returning, as was his wont, to his first idea, that pint is waiting for you.