Page 805 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

(They whisk black masks from raw babby faces: then,
chuckling, chortling, trumming, twanging, they diddle diddle
cakewalk dance away.)

BLOOM: (With a sour tenderish smile) A little frivol,
shall we, if you are so inclined? Would you like me
perhaps to embrace you just for a fraction of a second?
MRS BREEN: (Screams gaily) O, you ruck! You ought
to see yourself!
BLOOM: For old sake’ sake. I only meant a square
party, a mixed marriage mingling of our different little
conjugials. You know I had a soft corner for you.
(Gloomily) ‘Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear
gazelle.
MRS BREEN: Glory Alice, you do look a holy show!
Killing simply. (She puts out her hand inquisitively) What are
you hiding behind your back? Tell us, there’s a dear.
BLOOM: (Seizes her wrist with his free hand) Josie Powell
that was, prettiest deb in Dublin. How time flies by! Do
you remember, harking back in a retrospective
arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina Simpson’s
housewarming while they were playing the Irving Bishop
game, finding the pin blindfold and thoughtreading?
Subject, what is in this snuffbox?

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