--...manufacturing that champagne for those fellows.

Mr Dedalus laughed loudly.

--Is it Christy? he said. There's more cunning in one of those warts
on his bald head than in a pack of jack foxes.

He inclined his head, closed his eyes, and, licking his lips profusely,
began to speak with the voice of the hotel keeper.

--And he has such a soft mouth when he's speaking to you, don't you
know. He's very moist and watery about the dewlaps, God bless him.

Mr Casey was still struggling through his fit of coughing and laughter.
Stephen, seeing and hearing the hotel keeper through his father's face
and voice, laughed.

Mr Dedalus put up his eyeglass and, staring down at him, said quietly
and kindly:

--What are you laughing at, you little puppy, you?

The servants entered and placed the dishes on the table. Mrs Dedalus
followed and the places were arranged.

--Sit over, she said.

Mr Dedalus went to the end of the table and said:

--Now, Mrs Riordan, sit over. John, sit you down, my hearty.