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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 17/821
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Stephen
fetched
the
loaf
and
the
pot
of
honey
and
the
buttercooler
from
the
locker
.
Buck
Mulligan
sat
down
in
a
sudden
pet
.
—
What
sort
of
a
kip
is
this
?
he
said
.
I
told
her
to
come
after
eight
.
—
We
can
drink
it
black
,
Stephen
said
thirstily
.
There
’
s
a
lemon
in
the
locker
.
—
O
,
damn
you
and
your
Paris
fads
!
Buck
Mulligan
said
.
I
want
Sandycove
milk
.
Haines
came
in
from
the
doorway
and
said
quietly
:
—
That
woman
is
coming
up
with
the
milk
.
—
The
blessings
of
God
on
you
!
Buck
Mulligan
cried
,
jumping
up
from
his
chair
.
Sit
down
.
Pour
out
the
tea
there
.
The
sugar
is
in
the
bag
.
Here
,
I
can
’
t
go
fumbling
at
the
damned
eggs
.
He
hacked
through
the
fry
on
the
dish
and
slapped
it
out
on
three
plates
,
saying
:
—
In
nomine
Patris
et
Filii
et
Spiritus
Sancti
.
Haines
sat
down
to
pour
out
the
tea
.
