Улисс
Chapter 8
Twokindlingfaceswatchedherbend.
Quaveringthechordsstrayedfromtheair,founditagain,lostchord,andlostandfoundit,faltering.
—Goon!Do!Sonnez!
Bending,shenippedapeakofskirtaboveherknee.Delayed.Tauntedthemstill,bending,suspending,withwilfuleyes.
—Sonnez!
Smack.Shesetfreesuddeninreboundhernippedelasticgartersmackwarmagainsthersmackableawoman’swarmhosedthigh.
—Lacloche!criedgleefulLenehan.Trainedbyowner.Nosawdustthere.
Shesmilesmirkedsupercilious(wept!aren’tmen?),but,lightwardgliding,mildshesmiledonBoylan.
—You’retheessenceofvulgarity,sheinglidingsaid.
Boylan,eyed,eyed.Tossedtofatlipshischalice,drankoffhischalicetiny,suckingthelastfatvioletsyrupydrops.Hisspellboundeyeswentafter,afterherglidingheadasitwentdownthebarbymirrors,gildedarchforgingerale,hockandclaretglassesshimmering,aspikyshell,whereitconcerted,mirrored,bronzewithsunnierbronze.
Yes,bronzefromanearby.
—...Sweetheart,goodbye!
—I’moff,saidBoylanwithimpatience.
Heslidhischalicebriskaway,graspedhischange.
—Waitashake,beggedLenehan,drinkingquickly.Iwantedtotellyou.TomRochford...
—Comeontoblazes,saidBlazesBoylan,going.
Lenehangulpedtogo.
—Gotthehornorwhat?hesaid.Wait.I’mcoming.
Hefollowedthehastycreakingshoesbutstoodbynimblybythethreshold,salutingforms,abulkywithaslender.
—Howdoyoudo,MrDollard?
—Eh?Howdo?Howdo?BenDollard’svaguebassanswered,turninganinstantfromFatherCowley’swoe.
