Page 441 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

He put on his glasses and gazed towards the metal
bridge an instant.
—There he is, by God, he said, arse and pockets.
Ben Dollard’s loose blue cutaway and square hat above

large slops crossed the quay in full gait from the metal
bridge. He came towards them at an amble, scratching
actively behind his coattails.
As he came near Mr Dedalus greeted:
—Hold that fellow with the bad trousers.
—Hold him now, Ben Dollard said.
Mr Dedalus eyed with cold wandering scorn various
points of Ben Dollard’s figure. Then, turning to Father
Cowley with a nod, he muttered sneeringly:
—That’s a pretty garment, isn’t it, for a summer’s day?
—Why, God eternally curse your soul, Ben Dollard
growled furiously, I threw out more clothes in my time
than you ever saw.
He stood beside them beaming, on them first and on
his roomy clothes from points of which Mr Dedalus
flicked fluff, saying:
—They were made for a man in his health, Ben,
anyhow.
—Bad luck to the jewman that made them, Ben
Dollard said. Thanks be to God he’s not paid yet.

440 of 1305