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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 2/821
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He
peered
sideways
up
and
gave
a
long
slow
whistle
of
call
,
then
paused
awhile
in
rapt
attention
,
his
even
white
teeth
glistening
here
and
there
with
gold
points
.
Chrysostomos
.
Two
strong
shrill
whistles
answered
through
the
calm
.
—
Thanks
,
old
chap
,
he
cried
briskly
.
That
will
do
nicely
.
Switch
off
the
current
,
will
you
?
He
skipped
off
the
gunrest
and
looked
gravely
at
his
watcher
,
gathering
about
his
legs
the
loose
folds
of
his
gown
.
The
plump
shadowed
face
and
sullen
oval
jowl
recalled
a
prelate
,
patron
of
arts
in
the
middle
ages
.
A
pleasant
smile
broke
quietly
over
his
lips
.
—
The
mockery
of
it
!
he
said
gaily
.
Your
absurd
name
,
an
ancient
Greek
!
He
pointed
his
finger
in
friendly
jest
and
went
over
to
the
parapet
,
laughing
to
himself
.
Stephen
Dedalus
stepped
up
,
followed
him
wearily
halfway
and
sat
down
on
the
edge
of
the
gunrest
,
watching
him
still
as
he
propped
his
mirror
on
the
parapet
,
dipped
the
brush
in
the
bowl
and
lathered
cheeks
and
neck
.
Buck
Mulligan
’
s
gay
voice
went
on
.
—
My
name
is
absurd
too
:
Malachi
Mulligan
,
two
dactyls
.
But
it
has
a
Hellenic
ring
,
hasn
’
t
it
?
Tripping
and
sunny
like
the
buck
himself
.
We
must
go
to
Athens
.
Will
you
come
if
I
can
get
the
aunt
to
fork
out
twenty
quid
?
He
laid
the
brush
aside
and
,
laughing
with
delight
,
cried
:
—
Will
he
come
?
The
jejune
jesuit
!
