A short loud laugh from Mr Tate set the class more at ease.
—Perhaps you didn't know that, he said.
—Where? asked Stephen.
Mr Tate withdrew his delving hand and spread out the essay.
—Here. It's about the Creator and the soul. rrm... rrm... rrm... Ah! without a possibility of ever approaching nearer. That's heresy.
Stephen murmured:
—I meant without a possibility of ever reaching.