hands twice with the left he didnt recognise me either when I half frowned
at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in
Id like to know grey matter they have it all in their tail if you ask me those
country gougers up in the City Arms intelligence they had a damn sight less
than the bulls and cows they were selling the meat and the coalmans bell
that noisy bugger trying to swindle me with the wrong bill he took out of
his hat what a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken
bottles for a poor man today and no visitors or post ever except his cheques
or some advertisement like that wonderworker they sent him addressed dear
Madam only his letter and the card from Milly this morning see she wrote a
letter to him who did I get the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now whatever
possessed her to write after so many years to know the recipe I had for pisto
madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote to say she was married to a very rich
architect if Im to believe all I hear with a villa and eight rooms her father was
an awfully nice man he was near seventy always good humour well now Miss
Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the pyannyer that was a solid silver coffee
service he had too on the mahogany sideboard then dying so far away I hate
people that have always their poor story to tell everybody has their own
troubles that poor Nancy Blake died a month ago of acute pneumonia well
I didnt know her so well as all that she was Floeys friend more than mine its
a bother having to answer he always tells me the wrong things and no stops
to say like making a speech your sad bereavement symphathy I always make
that mistake and newphew with 2 double yous in I hope hell write me a longer
letter the next time if its a thing he really likes me O thanks be to the great God
I got somebody to give me what I badly wanted to put some heart up into me
youve no chances at all in this place like you used long ago I wish somebody
would write me a loveletter his wasnt much and I told him he could write
what he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in Old Madrid silly women believe love is
sighing I am dying still if he wrote it I suppose thered be some truth in it true or no it
fills up your whole day and life always something to think about every moment
and see it all around you like a new world I could write the answer in bed to
let him imagine me short just a few words not those long crossed letters Atty
Dillon used to write to the fellow that was something in the four courts that
jilted her after out of the ladies letterwriter when I told her to say a few
simple words he could twist how he liked not acting with precipit precipitancy
with equal candour the greatest earthly happiness answer to a gentlemans
proposal affirmatively my goodness theres nothing else its all very fine for them
Page:Ulysses, 1922.djvu/712
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
709