Page 207 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

—There, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also.
John Henry Menton took off his hat, bulged out the dinge
and smoothed the nap with care on his coatsleeve. He
clapped the hat on his head again.

—It’s all right now, Martin Cunningham said.
John Henry Menton jerked his head down in
acknowledgment.
—Thank you, he said shortly.
They walked on towards the gates. Mr Bloom,
chapfallen, drew behind a few paces so as not to overhear.
Martin laying down the law. Martin could wind a
sappyhead like that round his little finger, without his
seeing it.
Oyster eyes. Never mind. Be sorry after perhaps when
it dawns on him. Get the pull over him that way.
Thank you. How grand we are this morning!

* * * * *

IN THE HEART OF THE HIBERNIAN
METROPOLIS

Before Nelson’s pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed
trolley, started for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey,

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