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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 514/821
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—
Gerty
!
Gerty
!
We
’
re
going
.
Come
on
.
We
can
see
from
farther
up
.
Gerty
had
an
idea
,
one
of
love
’
s
little
ruses
.
She
slipped
a
hand
into
her
kerchief
pocket
and
took
out
the
wadding
and
waved
in
reply
of
course
without
letting
him
and
then
slipped
it
back
.
Wonder
if
he
’
s
too
far
to
.
She
rose
.
Was
it
goodbye
?
No
.
She
had
to
go
but
they
would
meet
again
,
there
,
and
she
would
dream
of
that
till
then
,
tomorrow
,
of
her
dream
of
yester
eve
.
She
drew
herself
up
to
her
full
height
.
Their
souls
met
in
a
last
lingering
glance
and
the
eyes
that
reached
her
heart
,
full
of
a
strange
shining
,
hung
enraptured
on
her
sweet
flowerlike
face
.
She
half
smiled
at
him
wanly
,
a
sweet
forgiving
smile
,
a
smile
that
verged
on
tears
,
and
then
they
parted
.
Slowly
,
without
looking
back
she
went
down
the
uneven
strand
to
Cissy
,
to
Edy
to
Jacky
and
Tommy
Caffrey
,
to
little
baby
Boardman
.
It
was
darker
now
and
there
were
stones
and
bits
of
wood
on
the
strand
and
slippy
seaweed
.
She
walked
with
a
certain
quiet
dignity
characteristic
of
her
but
with
care
and
very
slowly
because
—
because
Gerty
MacDowell
was
.
.
.
Tight
boots
?
No
.
She
’
s
lame
!
O
!
Mr
Bloom
watched
her
as
she
limped
away
.
Poor
girl
!
That
’
s
why
she
’
s
left
on
the
shelf
and
the
others
did
a
sprint
.
Thought
something
was
wrong
by
the
cut
of
her
jib
.
Jilted
beauty
.
A
defect
is
ten
times
worse
in
a
woman
.
But
makes
them
polite
.
Glad
I
didn
’
t
know
it
when
she
was
on
show
.
Hot
little
devil
all
the
same
.
I
wouldn
’
t
mind
.
Curiosity
like
a
nun
or
a
negress
or
a
girl
with
glasses
.
That
squinty
one
is
delicate
.
Near
her
monthlies
,
I
expect
,
makes
them
feel
ticklish
.
I
have
such
a
bad
headache
today
.
Where
did
I
put
the
letter
?
Yes
,
all
right
.
All
kinds
of
crazy
longings
.
Licking
pennies
.
Girl
in
Tranquilla
convent
that
nun
told
me
liked
to
smell
rock
oil
.
Virgins
go
mad
in
the
end
I
suppose
.
Sister
?
How
many
women
in
Dublin
have
it
today
?
Martha
,
she
.
Something
in
the
air
.
That
’
s
the
moon
.
But
then
why
don
’
t
all
women
menstruate
at
the
same
time
with
the
same
moon
,
I
mean
?
Depends
on
the
time
they
were
born
I
suppose
.
Or
all
start
scratch
then
get
out
of
step
.
Sometimes
Molly
and
Milly
together
.
Anyhow
I
got
the
best
of
that
.
Damned
glad
I
didn
’
t
do
it
in
the
bath
this
morning
over
her
silly
I
will
punish
you
letter
.
Made
up
for
that
tramdriver
this
morning
.
That
gouger
M
’
Coy
stopping
me
to
say
nothing
.
And
his
wife
engagement
in
the
country
valise
,
voice
like
a
pickaxe
.
Thankful
for
small
mercies
.
Cheap
too
.
Yours
for
the
asking
.
Because
they
want
it
themselves
.
Their
natural
craving
.
Shoals
of
them
every
evening
poured
out
of
offices
.
Reserve
better
.
Don
’
t
want
it
they
throw
it
at
you
.
Catch
em
alive
,
O
.
Pity
they
can
’
t
see
themselves
.
A
dream
of
wellfilled
hose
.
Where
was
that
?
Ah
,
yes
.
Mutoscope
pictures
in
Capel
street
:
for
men
only
.
Peeping
Tom
.
Willy
’
s
hat
and
what
the
girls
did
with
it
.
Do
they
snapshot
those
girls
or
is
it
all
a
fake
?
Lingerie
does
it
.
Felt
for
the
curves
inside
her
déshabillé
.
Excites
them
also
when
they
’
re
.
I
’
m
all
clean
come
and
dirty
me
.
And
they
like
dressing
one
another
for
the
sacrifice
.
Milly
delighted
with
Molly
’
s
new
blouse
.
At
first
.
Put
them
all
on
to
take
them
all
off
.
Molly
.
Why
I
bought
her
the
violet
garters
.
Us
too
:
the
tie
he
wore
,
his
lovely
socks
and
turnedup
trousers
.
He
wore
a
pair
of
gaiters
the
night
that
first
we
met
.
His
lovely
shirt
was
shining
beneath
his
what
?
of
jet
.
Say
a
woman
loses
a
charm
with
every
pin
she
takes
out
.
Pinned
together
.
O
,
Mairy
lost
the
pin
of
her
.
Dressed
up
to
the
nines
for
somebody
.
Fashion
part
of
their
charm
.
Just
changes
when
you
’
re
on
the
track
of
the
secret
.
Except
the
east
:
Mary
,
Martha
:
now
as
then
.
No
reasonable
offer
refused
.
She
wasn
’
t
in
a
hurry
either
.
Always
off
to
a
fellow
when
they
are
.
They
never
forget
an
appointment
.
Out
on
spec
probably
.
They
believe
in
chance
because
like
themselves
.
And
the
others
inclined
to
give
her
an
odd
dig
.
Girl
friends
at
school
,
arms
round
each
other
’
s
necks
or
with
ten
fingers
locked
,
kissing
and
whispering
secrets
about
nothing
in
the
convent
garden
.
Nuns
with
whitewashed
faces
,
cool
coifs
and
their
rosaries
going
up
and
down
,
vindictive
too
for
what
they
can
’
t
get
.
Barbed
wire
.
Be
sure
now
and
write
to
me
.
And
I
’
ll
write
to
you
.
Now
won
’
t
you
?
Molly
and
Josie
Powell
.
Till
Mr
Right
comes
along
,
then
meet
once
in
a
blue
moon
.
Tableau
!
O
,
look
who
it
is
for
the
love
of
God
!
How
are
you
at
all
?
What
have
you
been
doing
with
yourself
?
Kiss
and
delighted
to
,
kiss
,
to
see
you
.
Picking
holes
in
each
other
’
s
appearance
.
You
’
re
looking
splendid
.
Sister
souls
.
Showing
their
teeth
at
one
another
.
How
many
have
you
left
?
Wouldn
’
t
lend
each
other
a
pinch
of
salt
.
Ah
!
Devils
they
are
when
that
’
s
coming
on
them
.
Dark
devilish
appearance
.
Molly
often
told
me
feel
things
a
ton
weight
.
Scratch
the
sole
of
my
foot
.
O
that
way
!
O
,
that
’
s
exquisite
!
Feel
it
myself
too
.
Good
to
rest
once
in
a
way
.
Wonder
if
it
’
s
bad
to
go
with
them
then
.
Safe
in
one
way
.
Turns
milk
,
makes
fiddlestrings
snap
.
Something
about
withering
plants
I
read
in
a
garden
.
Besides
they
say
if
the
flower
withers
she
wears
she
’
s
a
flirt
.
All
are
.
Daresay
she
felt
I
.
