Page 873 - ULYSSES

Ulysses

and glancing at herself in the gilt mirror over the mantelpiece. A
tag of her corsetlace hangs slightly below her jacket. Lynch
indicates mockingly the couple at the piano.)

KITTY: (Coughs behind her hand) She’s a bit imbecillic.
(She signs with a waggling forefinger) Blemblem. (Lynch lifts up
her skirt and white petticoat with his wand she settles them down
quickly.) Respect yourself. (She hiccups, then bends quickly her
sailor hat under which her hair glows, red with henna) O,
excuse!
ZOE: More limelight, Charley. (She goes to the chandelier
and turns the gas full cock)
KITTY: (Peers at the gasjet) What ails it tonight?
LYNCH: (Deeply) Enter a ghost and hobgoblins.
ZOE: Clap on the back for Zoe.
(The wand in Lynch’s hand flashes: a brass poker. Stephen
stands at the pianola on which sprawl his hat and ashplant. With
two fingers he repeats once more the series of empty fifths. Florry
Talbot, a blond feeble goosefat whore in a tatterdemalion gown of
mildewed strawberry, lolls spreadeagle in the sofacorner, her limp
forearm pendent over the bolster, listening. A heavy stye droops
over her sleepy eyelid.)
KITTY: (Hiccups again with a kick of her horsed foot) O,
excuse!

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