Улисс

           —Doyouwanttocross?MrBloomasked.

           Theblindstriplingdidnotanswer.Hiswallfacefrownedweakly.Hemovedhisheaduncertainly.

           —You’reinDawsonstreet,MrBloomsaid.Molesworthstreetisopposite.Doyouwanttocross?There’snothingintheway.

           Thecanemovedouttremblingtotheleft.MrBloom’seyefolloweditslineandsawagainthedyeworks’vandrawnupbeforeDrago’s.WhereIsawhisbrillantinedhairjustwhenIwas.Horsedrooping.DriverinJohnLong’s.Slakinghisdrouth.

           —There’savanthere,MrBloomsaid,butit’snotmoving.I’llseeyouacross.DoyouwanttogotoMolesworthstreet?

           —Yes,thestriplinganswered.SouthFrederickstreet.

           —Come,MrBloomsaid.

           Hetouchedthethinelbowgently:thentookthelimpseeinghandtoguideitforward.

           Saysomethingtohim.Betternotdothecondescending.Theymistrustwhatyoutellthem.Passacommonremark.

           —Therainkeptoff.

           Noanswer.

           Stainsonhiscoat.Slobbershisfood,Isuppose.Tastesalldifferentforhim.Havetobespoonfedfirst.Likeachild’shand,hishand.LikeMilly’swas.Sensitive.SizingmeupIdaresayfrommyhand.Wonderifhehasaname.Van.Keephiscaneclearofthehorse’slegs:tireddrudgegethisdoze.That’sright.Clear.Behindabull:infrontofahorse.

           —Thanks,sir.

           KnowsI’maman.Voice.

           —Rightnow?Firstturntotheleft.

           Theblindstriplingtappedthecurbstoneandwentonhisway,drawinghiscaneback,feelingagain.

           MrBloomwalkedbehindtheeyelessfeet,aflatcutsuitofherringbonetweed.