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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 732/821
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—
Some
time
yesterday
,
Stephen
said
.
—
Yesterday
!
exclaimed
Bloom
till
he
remembered
it
was
already
tomorrow
Friday
.
Ah
,
you
mean
it
’
s
after
twelve
!
—
The
day
before
yesterday
,
Stephen
said
,
improving
on
himself
.
Literally
astounded
at
this
piece
of
intelligence
Bloom
reflected
.
Though
they
didn
’
t
see
eye
to
eye
in
everything
a
certain
analogy
there
somehow
was
as
if
both
their
minds
were
travelling
,
so
to
speak
,
in
the
one
train
of
thought
.
At
his
age
when
dabbling
in
politics
roughly
some
score
of
years
previously
when
he
had
been
a
quasi
aspirant
to
parliamentary
honours
in
the
Buckshot
Foster
days
he
too
recollected
in
retrospect
(
which
was
a
source
of
keen
satisfaction
in
itself
)
he
had
a
sneaking
regard
for
those
same
ultra
ideas
.
For
instance
when
the
evicted
tenants
question
,
then
at
its
first
inception
,
bulked
largely
in
people
’
s
mind
though
,
it
goes
without
saying
,
not
contributing
a
copper
or
pinning
his
faith
absolutely
to
its
dictums
,
some
of
which
wouldn
’
t
exactly
hold
water
,
he
at
the
outset
in
principle
at
all
events
was
in
thorough
sympathy
with
peasant
possession
as
voicing
the
trend
of
modern
opinion
(
a
partiality
,
however
,
which
,
realising
his
mistake
,
he
was
subsequently
partially
cured
of
)
and
even
was
twitted
with
going
a
step
farther
than
Michael
Davitt
in
the
striking
views
he
at
one
time
inculcated
as
a
backtothelander
,
which
was
one
reason
he
strongly
resented
the
innuendo
put
upon
him
in
so
barefaced
a
fashion
by
our
friend
at
the
gathering
of
the
clans
in
Barney
Kiernan
’
s
so
that
he
,
though
often
considerably
misunderstood
and
the
least
pugnacious
of
mortals
,
be
it
repeated
,
departed
from
his
customary
habit
to
give
him
(
metaphorically
)
one
in
the
gizzard
though
,
so
far
as
politics
themselves
were
concerned
,
he
was
only
too
conscious
of
the
casualties
invariably
resulting
from
propaganda
and
displays
of
mutual
animosity
and
the
misery
and
suffering
it
entailed
as
a
foregone
conclusion
on
fine
young
fellows
,
chiefly
,
destruction
of
the
fittest
,
in
a
word
.
Anyhow
upon
weighing
up
the
pros
and
cons
,
getting
on
for
one
,
as
it
was
,
it
was
high
time
to
be
retiring
for
the
night
.
The
crux
was
it
was
a
bit
risky
to
bring
him
home
as
eventualities
might
possibly
ensue
(
somebody
having
a
temper
of
her
own
sometimes
)
and
spoil
the
hash
altogether
as
on
the
night
he
misguidedly
brought
home
a
dog
(
breed
unknown
)
with
a
lame
paw
(
not
that
the
cases
were
either
identical
or
the
reverse
though
he
had
hurt
his
hand
too
)
to
Ontario
Terrace
as
he
very
distinctly
remembered
,
having
been
there
,
so
to
speak
.
On
the
other
hand
it
was
altogether
far
and
away
too
late
for
the
Sandymount
or
Sandycove
suggestion
so
that
he
was
in
some
perplexity
as
to
which
of
the
two
alternatives
.
Everything
pointed
to
the
fact
that
it
behoved
him
to
avail
himself
to
the
full
of
the
opportunity
,
all
things
considered
.
His
initial
impression
was
he
was
a
shade
standoffish
or
not
over
effusive
but
it
grew
on
him
someway
.
For
one
thing
he
mightn
’
t
what
you
call
jump
at
the
idea
,
if
approached
,
and
what
mostly
worried
him
was
he
didn
’
t
know
how
to
lead
up
to
it
or
word
it
exactly
,
supposing
he
did
entertain
the
proposal
,
as
it
would
afford
him
very
great
personal
pleasure
if
he
would
allow
him
to
help
to
put
coin
in
his
way
or
some
wardrobe
,
if
found
suitable
.
At
all
events
he
wound
up
by
concluding
,
eschewing
for
the
nonce
hidebound
precedent
,
a
cup
of
Epps
’
s
cocoa
and
a
shakedown
for
the
night
plus
the
use
of
a
rug
or
two
and
overcoat
doubled
into
a
pillow
at
least
he
would
be
in
safe
hands
and
as
warm
as
a
toast
on
a
trivet
he
failed
to
perceive
any
very
vast
amount
of
harm
in
that
always
with
the
proviso
no
rumpus
of
any
sort
was
kicked
up
.
A
move
had
to
be
made
because
that
merry
old
soul
,
the
grasswidower
in
question
who
appeared
to
be
glued
to
the
spot
,
didn
’
t
appear
in
any
particular
hurry
to
wend
his
way
home
to
his
dearly
beloved
Queenstown
and
it
was
highly
likely
some
sponger
’
s
bawdyhouse
of
retired
beauties
where
age
was
no
bar
off
Sheriff
street
lower
would
be
the
best
clue
to
that
equivocal
character
’
s
whereabouts
for
a
few
days
to
come
,
alternately
racking
their
feelings
(
the
mermaids
’
)
with
sixchamber
revolver
anecdotes
verging
on
the
tropical
calculated
to
freeze
the
marrow
of
anybody
’
s
bones
and
mauling
their
largesized
charms
betweenwhiles
with
rough
and
tumble
gusto
to
the
accompaniment
of
large
potations
of
potheen
and
the
usual
blarney
about
himself
for
as
to
who
he
in
reality
was
let
x
equal
my
right
name
and
address
,
as
Mr
Algebra
remarks
passim
.
At
the
same
time
he
inwardly
chuckled
over
his
gentle
repartee
to
the
blood
and
ouns
champion
about
his
god
being
a
jew
.
People
could
put
up
with
being
bitten
by
a
wolf
but
what
properly
riled
them
was
a
bite
from
a
sheep
.
The
most
vulnerable
point
too
of
tender
Achilles
.
Your
god
was
a
jew
.
Because
mostly
they
appeared
to
imagine
he
came
from
Carrick
-
on
-
Shannon
or
somewhereabouts
in
the
county
Sligo
.
—
I
propose
,
our
hero
eventually
suggested
after
mature
reflection
while
prudently
pocketing
her
photo
,
as
it
’
s
rather
stuffy
here
you
just
come
home
with
me
and
talk
things
over
.
My
diggings
are
quite
close
in
the
vicinity
.
You
can
’
t
drink
that
stuff
.
Do
you
like
cocoa
?
Wait
.
I
’
ll
just
pay
this
lot
.
