Page 679 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

today spitting back gumchewed gristle. French letter still
in my pocketbook. Cause of half the trouble. But might
happen sometime, I don’t think. Come in, all is prepared.
I dreamt. What? Worst is beginning. How they change

the venue when it’s not what they like. Ask you do you
like mushrooms because she once knew a gentleman who.
Or ask you what someone was going to say when he
changed his mind and stopped. Yet if I went the whole
hog, say: I want to, something like that. Because I did. She
too. Offend her. Then make it up. Pretend to want
something awfully, then cry off for her sake. Flatters them.
She must have been thinking of someone else all the time.
What harm? Must since she came to the use of reason, he,
he and he. First kiss does the trick. The propitious
moment. Something inside them goes pop. Mushy like,
tell by their eye, on the sly. First thoughts are best.
Remember that till their dying day. Molly, lieutenant
Mulvey that kissed her under the Moorish wall beside the
gardens. Fifteen she told me. But her breasts were
developed. Fell asleep then. After Glencree dinner that
was when we drove home. Featherbed mountain.
Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Lord mayor had his eye on
her too. Val Dillon. Apoplectic.

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