Улісс

           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.