Ulysses by James Joyce Chapter 1 Page 8

The aunt thinks you killed your mother, he said. That’s why she won’t let me have anything to do with you.

Someone killed her, Stephen said gloomily.

You could have knelt down, damn it, Kinch, when your dying mother asked you, Buck Mulligan said. I’m hyperborean as much as you. But to think of your mother begging you with her last breath to kneel down and pray for her. And you refused. There is something sinister in you....

He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek. A tolerant smile curled his lips.

But a lovely mummer! he murmured to himself. Kinch, the loveliest mummer of them all!

He shaved evenly and with care, in silence, seriously.