—Don't, please. You cannot discuss this question with your mouth full of chewed fig.
Cranly examined the fig by the light of a lamp under which he halted. Then he smelt it with both nostrils,bit a tiny piece, spat it out and threw the fig rudely into the gutter. Addressing it as it lay, he said:
—Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire.
Taking Stephen's arm, he went on again and said:
—Do you not fear that those words may be spoken to you on the day of judgement?