Page 264 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

—Easy all, Myles Crawford said. No poetic licence.
We’re in the archdiocese here.
—And settle down on their striped petticoats, peering
up at the statue of the onehandled adulterer.

—Onehandled adulterer! the professor cried. I like that.
I see the idea. I see what you mean.

DAMES DONATE DUBLIN’S CITS
SPEEDPILLS VELOCITOUS
AEROLITHS, BELIEF

—It gives them a crick in their necks, Stephen said, and
they are too tired to look up or down or to speak. They
put the bag of plums between them and eat the plums out
of it, one after another, wiping off with their
handkerchiefs the plumjuice that dribbles out of their
mouths and spitting the plumstones slowly out between
the railings.
He gave a sudden loud young laugh as a close. Lenehan
and Mr O’Madden Burke, hearing, turned, beckoned and
led on across towards Mooney’s.
—Finished? Myles Crawford said. So long as they do
no worse.

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