Улисс
Chapter 1
TherewasadosshouseinMarlboroughstreet,MrsMaloney’s,butitwasonlyatannertouchandfullofundesirablesbutM’ConachietoldhimyougotadecentenoughdointheBrazenHeadoverinWinetavernstreet(whichwasdistantlysuggestivetothepersonaddressedoffriarBacon)forabob.Hewasstarvingtoothoughhehadn’tsaidawordaboutit.
ThoughthissortofthingwentoneveryothernightorverynearitstillStephen’sfeelingsgotthebetterofhiminasensethoughheknewthatCorley’sbrandnewrigmaroleonaparwiththeotherswashardlydeservingofmuchcredence.HoweverhaudignarusmalorummiserissuccurrerediscoetceteraastheLatinpoetremarksespeciallyasluckwouldhaveithegotpaidhisscrewaftereverymiddleofthemonthonthesixteenthwhichwasthedateofthemonthasamatteroffactthoughagoodbitofthewherewithalwasdemolished.ButthecreamofthejokewasnothingwouldgetitoutofCorley’sheadthathewaslivinginaffluenceandhadn’tathingtodobuthandouttheneedful.Whereas.Heputhishandinapocketanyhownotwiththeideaoffindinganyfoodtherebutthinkinghemightlendhimanythinguptoaboborsoinlieusothathemightendeavouratalleventsandgetsufficienttoeatbuttheresultwasinthenegativefor,tohischagrin,hefoundhiscashmissing.Afewbrokenbiscuitswerealltheresultofhisinvestigation.Hetriedhishardesttorecollectforthemomentwhetherhehadlostaswellhemighthaveorleftbecauseinthatcontingencyitwasnotapleasantlookout,verymuchthereverseinfact.
