Улисс
Chapter 7
HefollowedM’CoyoutacrossthetinysquareofCramptoncourt.
—He’sahero,hesaidsimply.
—Iknow,M’Coysaid.Thedrain,youmean.
—Drain?Lenehansaid.Itwasdownamanhole.
TheypassedDanLowry’smusichallwhereMarieKendall,charmingsoubrette,smiledonthemfromaposteradaubysmile.
GoingdownthepathofSycamorestreetbesidetheEmpiremusichallLenehanshowedM’Coyhowthewholethingwas.Oneofthosemanholeslikeabloodygaspipeandtherewasthepoordevilstuckdowninit,halfchokedwithsewergas.DownwentTomRochfordanyhow,booky’svestandall,withtheroperoundhim.Andbedamnedbuthegottheroperoundthepoordevilandthetwowerehauledup.
—Theactofahero,hesaid.
AttheDolphintheyhaltedtoallowtheambulancecartogalloppastthemforJervisstreet.
—Thisway,hesaid,walkingtotheright.IwanttopopintoLynam’stoseeSceptre’sstartingprice.What’sthetimebyyourgoldwatchandchain?
M’CoypeeredintoMarcusTertiusMoses’sombreoffice,thenatO’Neill’sclock.
—Afterthree,hesaid.Who’sridingher?
—O.Madden,Lenehansaid.Andagamefillysheis.
WhilehewaitedinTemplebarM’Coydodgedabananapeelwithgentlepushesofhistoefromthepathtothegutter.Fellowmightdamneasygetanastyfalltherecomingalongtightinthedark.
Thegatesofthedriveopenedwidetogiveegresstotheviceregalcavalcade.
—Evenmoney,Lenehansaidreturning.IknockedagainstBantamLyonsintheregoingtobackabloodyhorsesomeonegavehimthathasn’tanearthly.Throughhere.
