Улісс
Chapter 1
HeturnedabruptlyhisgreysearchingeyesfromtheseatoStephen’sface.
—Theauntthinksyoukilledyourmother,hesaid.That’swhyshewon’tletmehaveanythingtodowithyou.
—Someonekilledher,Stephensaidgloomily.
—Youcouldhavekneltdown,damnit,Kinch,whenyourdyingmotheraskedyou,BuckMulligansaid.I’mhyperboreanasmuchasyou.Buttothinkofyourmotherbeggingyouwithherlastbreathtokneeldownandprayforher.Andyourefused.Thereissomethingsinisterinyou....
Hebrokeoffandlatheredagainlightlyhisfarthercheek.Atolerantsmilecurledhislips.
—Butalovelymummer!hemurmuredtohimself.Kinch,theloveliestmummerofthemall!
Heshavedevenlyandwithcare,insilence,seriously.
Stephen,anelbowrestedonthejaggedgranite,leanedhispalmagainsthisbrowandgazedatthefrayingedgeofhisshinyblackcoat-sleeve.Pain,thatwasnotyetthepainoflove,frettedhisheart.Silently,inadreamshehadcometohimafterherdeath,herwastedbodywithinitsloosebrowngraveclothesgivingoffanodourofwaxandrosewood,herbreath,thathadbentuponhim,mute,reproachful,afaintodourofwettedashes.Acrossthethreadbarecuffedgehesawtheseahailedasagreatsweetmotherbythewellfedvoicebesidehim.Theringofbayandskylineheldadullgreenmassofliquid.Abowlofwhitechinahadstoodbesideherdeathbedholdingthegreensluggishbilewhichshehadtornupfromherrottingliverbyfitsofloudgroaningvomiting.
BuckMulliganwipedagainhisrazorblade.
—Ah,poordogsbody!hesaidinakindvoice.