The Dublin men were determined to drive their advantage to victory.

Another goal and their lead might settle, once and for all, the issue.
Olva was standing back, listening.

The earth was humming like a top.

A voice seemed to be borne on the wind--"Coming, Coming, Coming." He felt that the clouds were spreading behind him and a little wind seemed to be whispering in the grass--"Coming, Coming, Coming." His very existence now was strung to a pitch of expectation.
As in a dream he saw that a Dublin man with the ball had got clear away from the clump of Cambridge forwards, and was coming towards him.

Behind him only was Lawrence.