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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Стр. 76/821
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His
hand
groped
vainly
in
his
pockets
.
No
,
I
didn
’
t
.
Better
buy
one
.
He
laid
the
dry
snot
picked
from
his
nostril
on
a
ledge
of
rock
,
carefully
.
For
the
rest
let
look
who
will
.
Behind
.
Perhaps
there
is
someone
.
He
turned
his
face
over
a
shoulder
,
rere
regardant
.
Moving
through
the
air
high
spars
of
a
threemaster
,
her
sails
brailed
up
on
the
crosstrees
,
homing
,
upstream
,
silently
moving
,
a
silent
ship
.
Mr
Leopold
Bloom
ate
with
relish
the
inner
organs
of
beasts
and
fowls
.
He
liked
thick
giblet
soup
,
nutty
gizzards
,
a
stuffed
roast
heart
,
liverslices
fried
with
crustcrumbs
,
fried
hencods
’
roes
.
Most
of
all
he
liked
grilled
mutton
kidneys
which
gave
to
his
palate
a
fine
tang
of
faintly
scented
urine
.
Kidneys
were
in
his
mind
as
he
moved
about
the
kitchen
softly
,
righting
her
breakfast
things
on
the
humpy
tray
.
Gelid
light
and
air
were
in
the
kitchen
but
out
of
doors
gentle
summer
morning
everywhere
.
Made
him
feel
a
bit
peckish
.
The
coals
were
reddening
.
Another
slice
of
bread
and
butter
:
three
,
four
:
right
.
She
didn
’
t
like
her
plate
full
.
Right
.
He
turned
from
the
tray
,
lifted
the
kettle
off
the
hob
and
set
it
sideways
on
the
fire
.
It
sat
there
,
dull
and
squat
,
its
spout
stuck
out
.
Cup
of
tea
soon
.
Good
.
Mouth
dry
.
The
cat
walked
stiffly
round
a
leg
of
the
table
with
tail
on
high
.
—
Mkgnao
!
—
O
,
there
you
are
,
Mr
Bloom
said
,
turning
from
the
fire
.
