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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 251/821
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At
Duke
lane
a
ravenous
terrier
choked
up
a
sick
knuckly
cud
on
the
cobblestones
and
lapped
it
with
new
zest
.
Surfeit
.
Returned
with
thanks
having
fully
digested
the
contents
.
First
sweet
then
savoury
.
Mr
Bloom
coasted
warily
.
Ruminants
.
His
second
course
.
Their
upper
jaw
they
move
.
Wonder
if
Tom
Rochford
will
do
anything
with
that
invention
of
his
?
Wasting
time
explaining
it
to
Flynn
’
s
mouth
.
Lean
people
long
mouths
.
Ought
to
be
a
hall
or
a
place
where
inventors
could
go
in
and
invent
free
.
Course
then
you
’
d
have
all
the
cranks
pestering
.
He
hummed
,
prolonging
in
solemn
echo
the
closes
of
the
bars
:
Don
Giovanni
,
a
cenar
teco
M
’
invitasti
.
Feel
better
.
Burgundy
.
Good
pick
me
up
.
Who
distilled
first
?
Some
chap
in
the
blues
.
Dutch
courage
.
That
Kilkenny
People
in
the
national
library
now
I
must
.
Bare
clean
closestools
waiting
in
the
window
of
William
Miller
,
plumber
,
turned
back
his
thoughts
.
They
could
:
and
watch
it
all
the
way
down
,
swallow
a
pin
sometimes
come
out
of
the
ribs
years
after
,
tour
round
the
body
changing
biliary
duct
spleen
squirting
liver
gastric
juice
coils
of
intestines
like
pipes
.
But
the
poor
buffer
would
have
to
stand
all
the
time
with
his
insides
entrails
on
show
.
Science
.
—
A
cenar
teco
.
What
does
that
teco
mean
?
Tonight
perhaps
.
Don
Giovanni
,
thou
hast
me
invited
