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- Джеймс Джойс
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- Улисс
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- Стр. 816/821
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was
at
them
Im
sure
by
the
clock
like
some
kind
of
a
big
infant
I
had
at
me
they
want
everything
in
their
mouth
all
the
pleasure
those
men
get
out
of
a
woman
I
can
feel
his
mouth
O
Lord
I
must
stretch
myself
I
wished
he
was
here
or
somebody
to
let
myself
go
with
and
come
again
like
that
I
feel
all
fire
inside
me
or
if
I
could
dream
it
when
he
made
me
spend
the
2nd
time
tickling
me
behind
with
his
finger
I
was
coming
for
about
5
minutes
with
my
legs
round
him
I
had
to
hug
him
after
O
Lord
I
wanted
to
shout
out
all
sorts
of
things
fuck
or
shit
or
anything
at
all
only
not
to
look
ugly
or
those
lines
from
the
strain
who
knows
the
way
hed
take
it
you
want
to
feel
your
way
with
a
man
theyre
not
all
like
him
thank
God
some
of
them
want
you
to
be
so
nice
about
it
I
noticed
the
contrast
he
does
it
and
doesnt
talk
I
gave
my
eyes
that
look
with
my
hair
a
bit
loose
from
the
tumbling
and
my
tongue
between
my
lips
up
to
him
the
savage
brute
Thursday
Friday
one
Saturday
two
Sunday
three
O
Lord
I
cant
wait
till
Monday
frseeeeeeeefronnnng
train
somewhere
whistling
the
strength
those
engines
have
in
them
like
big
giants
and
the
water
rolling
all
over
and
out
of
them
all
sides
like
the
end
of
Loves
old
sweeeetsonnnng
the
poor
men
that
have
to
be
out
all
the
night
from
their
wives
and
families
in
those
roasting
engines
stifling
it
was
today
Im
glad
I
burned
the
half
of
those
old
Freemans
and
Photo
Bits
leaving
things
like
that
lying
about
hes
getting
very
careless
and
threw
the
rest
of
them
up
in
the
W
C
I
’
ll
get
him
to
cut
them
tomorrow
for
me
instead
of
having
them
there
for
the
next
year
to
get
a
few
pence
for
them
have
him
asking
wheres
last
Januarys
paper
and
all
those
old
overcoats
I
bundled
out
of
the
hall
making
the
place
hotter
than
it
is
that
rain
was
lovely
and
refreshing
just
after
my
beauty
sleep
I
thought
it
was
going
to
get
like
Gibraltar
my
goodness
the
heat
there
before
the
levanter
came
on
black
as
night
and
the
glare
of
the
rock
standing
up
in
it
like
a
big
giant
compared
with
their
3
Rock
mountain
they
think
is
so
great
with
the
red
sentries
here
and
there
the
poplars
and
they
all
whitehot
and
the
smell
of
the
rainwater
in
those
tanks
watching
the
sun
all
the
time
weltering
down
on
you
faded
all
that
lovely
frock
fathers
friend
Mrs
Stanhope
sent
me
from
the
B
Marche
paris
what
a
shame
my
dearest
Doggerina
she
wrote
on
it
she
was
very
nice
whats
this
her
other
name
was
just
a
p
c
to
tell
you
I
sent
the
little
present
have
just
had
a
jolly
warm
bath
and
feel
a
very
clean
dog
now
enjoyed
it
wogger
she
called
him
wogger
wd
give
anything
to
be
back
in
Gib
and
hear
you
sing
Waiting
and
in
old
Madrid
Concone
is
the
name
of
those
exercises
he
bought
me
one
of
those
new
some
word
I
couldnt
make
out
shawls
amusing
things
but
tear
for
the
least
thing
still
there
lovely
I
think
dont
you
will
always
think
of
the
lovely
teas
we
had
together
scrumptious
currant
scones
and
raspberry
wafers
I
adore
well
now
dearest
Doggerina
be
sure
and
write
soon
kind
she
left
out
regards
to
your
father
also
Captain
Grove
with
love
yrs
affly
Hester
x
x
x
x
x
she
didnt
look
a
bit
married
just
like
a
girl
he
was
years
older
than
her
wogger
he
was
awfully
fond
of
me
when
he
held
down
the
wire
with
his
foot
for
me
to
step
over
at
the
bullfight
at
La
Linea
when
that
matador
Gomez
was
given
the
bulls
ear
these
clothes
we
have
to
wear
whoever
invented
them
expecting
you
to
walk
up
Killiney
hill
then
for
example
at
that
picnic
all
staysed
up
you
cant
do
a
blessed
thing
in
them
in
a
crowd
run
or
jump
out
of
the
way
thats
why
I
was
afraid
when
that
other
ferocious
old
Bull
began
to
charge
the
banderilleros
with
the
sashes
and
the
2
things
in
their
hats
and
the
brutes
of
men
shouting
bravo
toro
sure
the
women
were
as
bad
in
their
nice
white
mantillas
ripping
all
the
whole
insides
out
of
those
poor
horses
I
never
heard
of
such
a
thing
in
all
my
life
yes
he
used
to
break
his
heart
at
me
taking
off
the
dog
barking
in
bell
lane
poor
brute
and
it
sick
what
became
of
them
ever
I
suppose
theyre
dead
long
ago
the
2
of
them
its
like
all
through
a
mist
makes
you
feel
so
old
I
made
the
scones
of
course
I
had
everything
all
to
myself
then
a
girl
Hester
we
used
to
compare
our
hair
mine
was
thicker
than
hers
she
showed
me
how
to
settle
it
at
the
back
when
I
put
it
up
and
whats
this
else
how
to
make
a
knot
on
a
thread
with
the
one
hand
we
were
like
cousins
what
age
was
I
then
the
night
of
the
storm
I
slept
in
her
bed
she
had
her
arms
round
me
then
we
were
fighting
in
the
morning
with
the
pillow
what
fun
he
was
watching
me
whenever
he
got
an
opportunity
at
the
band
on
the
Alameda
esplanade
when
I
was
with
father
and
Captain
Grove
I
looked
up
at
the
church
first
and
then
at
the
windows
then
down
and
our
eyes
met
I
felt
something
go
through
me
like
all
needles
my
eyes
were
dancing
I
remember
after
when
I
looked
at
myself
in
the
glass
hardly
recognised
myself
the
change
he
was
attractive
to
a
girl
in
spite
of
his
being
a
little
bald
intelligent
looking
disappointed
and
gay
at
the
same
time
he
was
like
Thomas
in
the
shadow
of
Ashlydyat
I
had
a
splendid
skin
from
the
sun
and
the
excitement
like
a
rose
I
didnt
get
a
wink
of
sleep
it
wouldnt
have
been
nice
on
account
of
her
but
I
could
have
stopped
it
in
time
she
gave
me
the
Moonstone
to
read
that
was
the
first
I
read
of
Wilkie
Collins
East
Lynne
I
read
and
the
shadow
of
Ashlydyat
Mrs
Henry
Wood
Henry
Dunbar
by
that
other
woman
I
lent
him
afterwards
with
Mulveys
photo
in
it
so
as
he
see
I
wasnt
without
and
Lord
Lytton
Eugene
Aram
Molly
bawn
she
gave
me
by
Mrs
Hungerford
on
account
of
the
name
I
dont
like
books
with
a
Molly
in
them
like
that
one
he
brought
me
about
the
one
from
Flanders
a
whore
always
shoplifting
anything
she
could
cloth
and
stuff
and
yards
of
it
O
this
blanket
is
too
heavy
on
me
thats
better
I
havent
even
one
decent
nightdress
this
thing
gets
all
rolled
under
me
besides
him
and
his
fooling
thats
better
I
used
to
be
weltering
then
in
the
heat
my
shift
drenched
with
the
sweat
stuck
in
the
cheeks
of
my
bottom
on
the
chair
when
I
stood
up
they
were
so
fattish
and
firm
when
I
got
up
on
the
sofa
cushions
to
see
with
my
clothes
up
and
the
bugs
tons
of
them
at
night
and
the
mosquito
nets
I
couldnt
read
a
line
Lord
how
long
ago
it
seems
centuries
of
course
they
never
came
back
and
she
didnt
put
her
address
right
on
it
either
she
may
have
noticed
her
wogger
people
were
always
going
away
and
we
never
I
remember
that
day
with
the
waves
and
the
boats
with
their
high
heads
rocking
and
the
smell
of
ship
those
Officers
uniforms
on
shore
leave
made
me
seasick
he
didnt
say
anything
he
was
very
serious
I
had
the
high
buttoned
boots
on
and
my
skirt
was
blowing
she
kissed
me
six
or
seven
times
didnt
I
cry
yes
I
believe
I
did
or
near
it
my
lips
were
taittering
when
I
said
goodbye
she
had
a
Gorgeous
wrap
of
some
special
kind
of
blue
colour
on
her
for
the
voyage
made
very
peculiarly
to
one
side
like
and
it
was
extremely
pretty
it
got
as
dull
as
the
devil
after
they
went
I
was
almost
planning
to
run
away
mad
out
of
it
somewhere
were
never
easy
where
we
are
father
or
aunt
or
marriage
waiting
always
waiting
to
guiiiide
him
toooo
me
waiting
nor
speeeed
his
flying
feet
their
damn
guns
bursting
and
booming
all
over
the
shop
especially
the
Queens
birthday
and
throwing
everything
down
in
all
directions
if
you
didnt
open
the
windows
when
general
Ulysses
Grant
whoever
he
was
or
did
supposed
to
be
some
great
fellow
landed
off
the
ship
and
old
Sprague
the
consul
that
was
there
from
before
the
flood
dressed
up
poor
man
and
he
in
mourning
for
the
son
then
the
same
old
bugles
for
reveille
in
the
morning
and
drums
rolling
and
the
unfortunate
poor
devils
of
soldiers
walking
about
with
messtins
smelling
the
place
more
than
the
old
longbearded
jews
in
their
jellibees
and
levites
assembly
and
sound
clear
and
gunfire
for
the
men
to
cross
the
lines
and
the
warden
marching
with
his
keys
to
lock
the
gates
and
the
bagpipes
and
only
captain
Groves
and
father
talking
about
Rorkes
drift
and
Plevna
and
sir
Garnet
Wolseley
and
Gordon
at
Khartoum
lighting
their
pipes
for
them
everytime
they
went
out
drunken
old
devil
with
his
grog
on
the
windowsill
catch
him
leaving
any
of
it
picking
his
nose
trying
to
think
of
some
other
dirty
story
to
tell
up
in
a
corner
but
he
never
forgot
himself
when
I
was
there
sending
me
out
of
the
room
on
some
blind
excuse
paying
his
compliments
the
Bushmills
whisky
talking
of
course
but
hed
do
the
same
to
the
next
woman
that
came
along
I
suppose
he
died
of
galloping
drink
ages
ago
the
days
like
years
not
a
letter
from
a
living
soul
except
the
odd
few
I
posted
to
myself
with
bits
of
paper
in
them
so
bored
sometimes
I
could
fight
with
my
nails
listening
to
that
old
Arab
with
the
one
eye
and
his
heass
of
an
instrument
singing
his
heah
heah
aheah
all
my
compriment
on
your
hotchapotch
of
your
heass
as
bad
as
now
with
the
hands
hanging
off
me
looking
out
of
the
window
if
there
was
a
nice
fellow
even
in
the
opposite
house
that
medical
in
Holles
street
the
nurse
was
after
when
I
put
on
my
gloves
and
hat
at
the
window
to
show
I
was
going
out
not
a
notion
what
I
meant
arent
they
thick
never
understand
what
you
say
even
youd
want
to
print
it
up
on
a
big
poster
for
them
not
even
if
you
shake
hands
twice
with
the
left
he
didnt
recognise
me
either
when
I
half
frowned
at
him
outside
Westland
row
chapel
where
does
their
great
intelligence
come
in
Id
like
to
know
grey
matter
they
have
it
all
in
their
tail
if
you
ask
me
those
country
gougers
up
in
the
City
Arms
intelligence
they
had
a
damn
sight
less
than
the
bulls
and
cows
they
were
selling
the
meat
and
the
coalmans
bell
that
noisy
bugger
trying
to
swindle
me
with
the
wrong
bill
he
took
out
of
his
hat
what
a
pair
of
paws
and
pots
and
pans
and
kettles
to
mend
any
broken
bottles
for
a
poor
man
today
and
no
visitors
or
post
ever
except
his
cheques
or
some
advertisement
like
that
wonderworker
they
sent
him
addressed
dear
Madam
only
his
letter
and
the
card
from
Milly
this
morning
see
she
wrote
a
letter
to
him
who
did
I
get
the
last
letter
from
O
Mrs
Dwenn
now
what
possessed
her
to
write
from
Canada
after
so
many
years
to
know
the
recipe
I
had
for
pisto
madrileno
Floey
Dillon
since
she
wrote
to
say
she
was
married
to
a
very
rich
architect
if
Im
to
believe
all
I
hear
with
a
villa
and
eight
rooms
her
father
was
an
awfully
nice
man
he
was
near
seventy
always
goodhumoured
well
now
Miss
Tweedy
or
Miss
Gillespie
theres
the
piannyer
that
was
a
solid
silver
coffee
service
he
had
too
on
the
mahogany
sideboard
then
dying
so
far
away
I
hate
people
that
have
always
their
poor
story
to
tell
everybody
has
their
own
troubles
that
poor
Nancy
Blake
died
a
month
ago
of
acute
neumonia
well
I
didnt
know
her
so
well
as
all
that
she
was
Floeys
friend
more
than
mine
poor
Nancy
its
a
bother
having
to
answer
he
always
tells
me
the
wrong
things
and
no
stops
to
say
like
making
a
speech
your
sad
bereavement
symph̸athy
I
always
make
that
mistake
and
new̸phew
with
2
double
yous
in
I
hope
hell
write
me
a
longer
letter
the
next
time
if
its
a
thing
he
really
likes
me
O
thanks
be
to
the
great
God
I
got
somebody
to
give
me
what
I
badly
wanted
to
put
some
heart
up
into
me
youve
no
chances
at
all
in
this
place
like
you
used
long
ago
I
wish
somebody
would
write
me
a
loveletter
his
wasnt
much
and
I
told
him
he
could
write
what
he
liked
yours
ever
Hugh
Boylan
in
old
Madrid
stuff
silly
women
believe
love
is
sighing
I
am
dying
still
if
he
wrote
it
I
suppose
thered
be
some
truth
in
it
true
or
no
it
fills
up
your
whole
day
and
life
always
something
to
think
about
every
moment
and
see
it
all
round
you
like
a
new
world
I
could
write
the
answer
in
bed
to
let
him
imagine
me
short
just
a
few
words
not
those
long
crossed
letters
Atty
Dillon
used
to
write
to
the
fellow
that
was
something
in
the
four
courts
that
jilted
her
after
out
of
the
ladies
letterwriter
when
I
told
her
to
say
a
few
simple
words
he
could
twist
how
he
liked
not
acting
with
precipat
precipitancy
with
equal
candour
the
greatest
earthly
happiness
answer
to
a
gentlemans
proposal
affirmatively
my
goodness
theres
nothing
else
its
all
very
fine
for
them
but
as
for
being
a
woman
as
soon
as
youre
old
they
might
as
well
throw
you
out
in
the
bottom
of
the
ashpit
.
Mulveys
was
the
first
when
I
was
in
bed
that
morning
and
Mrs
Rubio
brought
it
in
with
the
coffee
she
stood
there
standing
when
I
asked
her
to
hand
me
and
I
pointing
at
them
I
couldnt
think
of
the
word
a
hairpin
to
open
it
with
ah
horquilla
disobliging
old
thing
and
it
staring
her
in
the
face
with
her
switch
of
false
hair
on
her
and
vain
about
her
appearance
ugly
as
she
was
near
80
or
a
100
her
face
a
mass
of
wrinkles
with
all
her
religion
domineering
because
she
never
could
get
over
the
Atlantic
fleet
coming
in
half
the
ships
of
the
world
and
the
Union
Jack
flying
with
all
her
carabineros
because
4
drunken
English
sailors
took
all
the
rock
from
them
and
because
I
didnt
run
into
mass
often
enough
in
Santa
Maria
to
please
her
with
her
shawl
up
on
her
except
when
there
was
a
marriage
on
with
all
her
miracles
of
the
saints
and
her
black
blessed
virgin
with
the
silver
dress
and
the
sun
dancing
3
times
on
Easter
Sunday
morning
