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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 327/821
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The
blond
girl
in
Thornton
’
s
bedded
the
wicker
basket
with
rustling
fibre
.
Blazes
Boylan
handed
her
the
bottle
swathed
in
pink
tissue
paper
and
a
small
jar
.
—
Put
these
in
first
,
will
you
?
he
said
.
—
Yes
,
sir
,
the
blond
girl
said
.
And
the
fruit
on
top
.
—
That
’
ll
do
,
game
ball
,
Blazes
Boylan
said
.
She
bestowed
fat
pears
neatly
,
head
by
tail
,
and
among
them
ripe
shamefaced
peaches
.
Blazes
Boylan
walked
here
and
there
in
new
tan
shoes
about
the
fruitsmelling
shop
,
lifting
fruits
,
young
juicy
crinkled
and
plump
red
tomatoes
,
sniffing
smells
.
H
.
E
.
L
.
Y
.
’
S
filed
before
him
,
tallwhitehatted
,
past
Tangier
lane
,
plodding
towards
their
goal
.
He
turned
suddenly
from
a
chip
of
strawberries
,
drew
a
gold
watch
from
his
fob
and
held
it
at
its
chain
’
s
length
.
—
Can
you
send
them
by
tram
?
Now
?
A
darkbacked
figure
under
Merchants
’
arch
scanned
books
on
the
hawker
’
s
cart
.
