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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 6/821
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I
must
give
you
a
shirt
and
a
few
noserags
.
How
are
the
secondhand
breeks
?
—
They
fit
well
enough
,
Stephen
answered
.
Buck
Mulligan
attacked
the
hollow
beneath
his
underlip
.
—
The
mockery
of
it
,
he
said
contentedly
.
Secondleg
they
should
be
.
God
knows
what
poxy
bowsy
left
them
off
.
I
have
a
lovely
pair
with
a
hair
stripe
,
grey
.
You
’
ll
look
spiffing
in
them
.
I
’
m
not
joking
,
Kinch
.
You
look
damn
well
when
you
’
re
dressed
.
—
Thanks
,
Stephen
said
.
I
can
’
t
wear
them
if
they
are
grey
.
—
He
can
’
t
wear
them
,
Buck
Mulligan
told
his
face
in
the
mirror
.
Etiquette
is
etiquette
.
He
kills
his
mother
but
he
can
’
t
wear
grey
trousers
.
He
folded
his
razor
neatly
and
with
stroking
palps
of
fingers
felt
the
smooth
skin
.
Stephen
turned
his
gaze
from
the
sea
and
to
the
plump
face
with
its
smokeblue
mobile
eyes
.
—
That
fellow
I
was
with
in
the
Ship
last
night
,
said
Buck
Mulligan
,
says
you
have
g
.
p
.
i
.
He
’
s
up
in
Dottyville
with
Connolly
Norman
.
General
paralysis
of
the
insane
!
He
swept
the
mirror
a
half
circle
in
the
air
to
flash
the
tidings
abroad
in
sunlight
now
radiant
on
the
sea
.
His
curling
shaven
lips
laughed
and
the
edges
of
his
white
glittering
teeth
.
Laughter
seized
all
his
strong
wellknit
trunk
.
