...

At the door Dante turned round violently and shouted down the room, her cheeks flushed and quivering with rage:
— Devil out of hell! Wewon! We crushed him to death! Fiend!
The door slammed behind her. Mr Casey, freeing his arms from his holders, suddenly bowed his head on his hands with a sob of pain.
— Poor Parnell! he cried loudly. My dead king!

— James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a YoungMan