Hyacinth: I see no living thing but that thrush——
Fardy: Did I say it was living? What is that hanging on Quirke’s rack?
Hyacinth: It’s (fingers it) a sheep, sure enough——
Fardy: Well, what ails you that you can’t bring it away?
Hyacinth: It’s a dead one——
Fardy: What matter if it is?
Hyacinth: If it was living I could drive it before me——
Fardy: You could. Is it to your own lodging you would drive it? Sure everyone would take it to be a pet you brought from Carrow.
Hyacinth: I suppose they might.
Fardy: Miss Joyce sending in for news of it and it bleating behind the bed.