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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 249/821
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—
Would
I
trouble
you
for
a
glass
of
fresh
water
,
Mr
Byrne
?
he
said
.
—
Certainly
,
sir
.
Paddy
Leonard
eyed
his
alemates
.
—
Lord
love
a
duck
,
he
said
.
Look
at
what
I
’
m
standing
drinks
to
!
Cold
water
and
gingerpop
!
Two
fellows
that
would
suck
whisky
off
a
sore
leg
.
He
has
some
bloody
horse
up
his
sleeve
for
the
Gold
cup
.
A
dead
snip
.
—
Zinfandel
is
it
?
Nosey
Flynn
asked
.
Tom
Rochford
spilt
powder
from
a
twisted
paper
into
the
water
set
before
him
.
—
That
cursed
dyspepsia
,
he
said
before
drinking
.
—
Breadsoda
is
very
good
,
Davy
Byrne
said
.
Tom
Rochford
nodded
and
drank
.
—
Is
it
Zinfandel
?
