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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 380/821
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Miss
Kennedy
sauntered
sadly
from
bright
light
,
twining
a
loose
hair
behind
an
ear
.
Sauntering
sadly
,
gold
no
more
,
she
twisted
twined
a
hair
.
Sadly
she
twined
in
sauntering
gold
hair
behind
a
curving
ear
.
—
It
’
s
them
has
the
fine
times
,
sadly
then
she
said
.
A
man
.
Bloowho
went
by
by
Moulang
’
s
pipes
bearing
in
his
breast
the
sweets
of
sin
,
by
Wine
’
s
antiques
,
in
memory
bearing
sweet
sinful
words
,
by
Carroll
’
s
dusky
battered
plate
,
for
Raoul
.
The
boots
to
them
,
them
in
the
bar
,
them
barmaids
came
.
For
them
unheeding
him
he
banged
on
the
counter
his
tray
of
chattering
china
.
And
—
There
’
s
your
teas
,
he
said
.
Miss
Kennedy
with
manners
transposed
the
teatray
down
to
an
upturned
lithia
crate
,
safe
from
eyes
,
low
.
—
What
is
it
?
loud
boots
unmannerly
asked
.
—
Find
out
,
miss
Douce
retorted
,
leaving
her
spyingpoint
.
—
Your
beau
,
is
it
?
