Улисс
Chapter 7
Acertaingombeenmanofouracquaintance.
—Withabrokenback,isit?MrDedalusasked.
—Thesame,Simon,FatherCowleyanswered.Reubenofthatilk.I’mjustwaitingforBenDollard.He’sgoingtosayawordtolongJohntogethimtotakethosetwomenoff.AllIwantisalittletime.
Helookedwithvaguehopeupanddownthequay,abigapplebulginginhisneck.
—Iknow,MrDedalussaid,nodding.PooroldbockedyBen!He’salwaysdoingagoodturnforsomeone.Holdhard!
Heputonhisglassesandgazedtowardsthemetalbridgeaninstant.
—Thereheis,byGod,hesaid,arseandpockets.
BenDollard’sloosebluecutawayandsquarehatabovelargeslopscrossedthequayinfullgaitfromthemetalbridge.Hecametowardsthematanamble,scratchingactivelybehindhiscoattails.
AshecamenearMrDedalusgreeted:
—Holdthatfellowwiththebadtrousers.
—Holdhimnow,BenDollardsaid.
MrDedaluseyedwithcoldwanderingscornvariouspointsofBenDollard’sfigure.Then,turningtoFatherCowleywithanod,hemutteredsneeringly:
—That’saprettygarment,isn’tit,forasummer’sday?
—Why,Godeternallycurseyoursoul,BenDollardgrowledfuriously,Ithrewoutmoreclothesinmytimethanyoueversaw.
Hestoodbesidethembeaming,onthemfirstandonhisroomyclothesfrompointsofwhichMrDedalusflickedfluff,saying:
—Theyweremadeforamaninhishealth,Ben,anyhow.
—Badlucktothejewmanthatmadethem,BenDollardsaid.ThanksbetoGodhe’snotpaidyet.
—Andhowisthatbassoprofondo,Benjamin?FatherCowleyasked.
