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- Джеймс Джойс
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—
And
I
from
thee
.
.
.
—
I
heard
you
were
round
,
said
Blazes
Boylan
.
He
touched
to
fair
miss
Kennedy
a
rim
of
his
slanted
straw
.
She
smiled
on
him
.
But
sister
bronze
outsmiled
her
,
preening
for
him
her
richer
hair
,
a
bosom
and
a
rose
.
Smart
Boylan
bespoke
potions
.
—
What
’
s
your
cry
?
Glass
of
bitter
?
Glass
of
bitter
,
please
,
and
a
sloegin
for
me
.
Wire
in
yet
?
Not
yet
.
At
four
she
.
Who
said
four
?
Cowley
’
s
red
lugs
and
bulging
apple
in
the
door
of
the
sheriff
’
s
office
.
Avoid
.
Goulding
a
chance
.
What
is
he
doing
in
the
Ormond
?
Car
waiting
.
Wait
.
Hello
.
Where
off
to
?
Something
to
eat
?
I
too
was
just
.
In
here
.
What
,
Ormond
?
Best
value
in
Dublin
.
Is
that
so
?
Diningroom
.
Sit
tight
there
.
See
,
not
be
seen
.
I
think
I
’
ll
join
you
.
Come
on
.
Richie
led
on
.
Bloom
followed
bag
.
Dinner
fit
for
a
prince
.
Miss
Douce
reached
high
to
take
a
flagon
,
stretching
her
satin
arm
,
her
bust
,
that
all
but
burst
,
so
high
.
