Улисс
Chapter 1
Imustgiveyouashirtandafewnoserags.Howarethesecondhandbreeks?
—Theyfitwellenough,Stephenanswered.
BuckMulliganattackedthehollowbeneathhisunderlip.
—Themockeryofit,hesaidcontentedly.Secondlegtheyshouldbe.Godknowswhatpoxybowsyleftthemoff.Ihavealovelypairwithahairstripe,grey.You’lllookspiffinginthem.I’mnotjoking,Kinch.Youlookdamnwellwhenyou’redressed.
—Thanks,Stephensaid.Ican’twearthemiftheyaregrey.
—Hecan’twearthem,BuckMulligantoldhisfaceinthemirror.Etiquetteisetiquette.Hekillshismotherbuthecan’tweargreytrousers.
Hefoldedhisrazorneatlyandwithstrokingpalpsoffingersfeltthesmoothskin.
Stephenturnedhisgazefromtheseaandtotheplumpfacewithitssmokebluemobileeyes.
—ThatfellowIwaswithintheShiplastnight,saidBuckMulligan,saysyouhaveg.p.i.He’supinDottyvillewithConnollyNorman.Generalparalysisoftheinsane!
Hesweptthemirrorahalfcircleintheairtoflashthetidingsabroadinsunlightnowradiantonthesea.Hiscurlingshavenlipslaughedandtheedgesofhiswhiteglitteringteeth.Laughterseizedallhisstrongwellknittrunk.
—Lookatyourself,hesaid,youdreadfulbard!
Stephenbentforwardandpeeredatthemirrorheldouttohim,cleftbyacrookedcrack.Haironend.Asheandothersseeme.Whochosethisfaceforme?Thisdogsbodytoridofvermin.Itasksmetoo.
—Ipincheditoutoftheskivvy’sroom,BuckMulligansaid.Itdoesherallright.TheauntalwayskeepsplainlookingservantsforMalachi.Leadhimnotintotemptation.
