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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 170/821
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He
ate
off
the
crescent
of
water
biscuit
he
had
been
nibbling
and
,
hungered
,
made
ready
to
nibble
the
biscuit
in
his
other
hand
.
High
falutin
stuff
.
Bladderbags
.
Ned
Lambert
is
taking
a
day
off
I
see
.
Rather
upsets
a
man
’
s
day
,
a
funeral
does
.
He
has
influence
they
say
.
Old
Chatterton
,
the
vicechancellor
,
is
his
granduncle
or
his
greatgranduncle
.
Close
on
ninety
they
say
.
Subleader
for
his
death
written
this
long
time
perhaps
.
Living
to
spite
them
.
Might
go
first
himself
.
Johnny
,
make
room
for
your
uncle
.
The
right
honourable
Hedges
Eyre
Chatterton
.
Daresay
he
writes
him
an
odd
shaky
cheque
or
two
on
gale
days
.
Windfall
when
he
kicks
out
.
Alleluia
.
—
Just
another
spasm
,
Ned
Lambert
said
.
—
What
is
it
?
Mr
Bloom
asked
.
—
A
recently
discovered
fragment
of
Cicero
,
professor
MacHugh
answered
with
pomp
of
tone
.
Our
lovely
land
.
SHORT
BUT
TO
THE
POINT
—
Whose
land
?
Mr
Bloom
said
simply
.
—
Most
pertinent
question
,
the
professor
said
between
his
chews
.
With
an
accent
on
the
whose
.
—
Dan
Dawson
’
s
land
Mr
Dedalus
said
.
