Улисс

           AndJackyCaffreyshoutedtolook,therewasanotherandsheleanedbackandthegarterswerebluetomatchonaccountofthetransparentandtheyallsawitandtheyallshoutedtolook,look,thereitwasandsheleanedbackeversofartoseethefireworksandsomethingqueerwasflyingthroughtheair,asoftthing,toandfro,dark.AndshesawalongRomancandlegoingupoverthetrees,up,up,and,inthetensehush,theywereallbreathlesswithexcitementasitwenthigherandhigherandshehadtoleanbackmoreandmoretolookupafterit,high,high,almostoutofsight,andherfacewassuffusedwithadivine,anentrancingblushfromstrainingbackandhecouldseeherotherthingstoo,nainsookknickers,thefabricthatcaressestheskin,betterthanthoseotherpettiwidth,thegreen,fourandeleven,onaccountofbeingwhiteandshelethimandshesawthathesawandthenitwentsohighitwentoutofsightamomentandshewastremblingineverylimbfrombeingbentsofarbackthathehadafullviewhighupaboveherkneewhereno-oneevernotevenontheswingorwadingandshewasn’tashamedandhewasn’teithertolookinthatimmodestwaylikethatbecausehecouldn’tresistthesightofthewondrousrevealmenthalfofferedlikethoseskirtdancersbehavingsoimmodestbeforegentlemenlookingandhekeptonlooking,looking.Shewouldfainhavecriedtohimchokingly,heldouthersnowyslenderarmstohimtocome,tofeelhislipslaidonherwhitebrow,thecryofayounggirl’slove,alittlestrangledcry,wrungfromher,thatcrythathasrungthroughtheages.