— No, thank you, sir, the old woman said, slipping the ring of the milkcan on her forearm and about to go.
Haines said to her :
— Have you your bill? We had better pay her, Mulligan, hadn’t we?
Stephen filled the three cups.
— Bill, sir? she said, halting. Well, it’s seven mornings a pint at two pence is seven twos is a shilling and twopence over and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a shilling and one and two is two and two, sir.
Buck Mulligan sighed and having filled his mouth with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to search his trouser pockets.
— Pay up and look pleasant, Haines said to him smiling.
Stephen filled a third cup, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his fingers and cried :
— A miracle!
He passed it along the table towards the old woman, saying :
— Ask nothing more of me, sweet. All I can give you I give.
Stephen laid the coin in her uneager hand.
— We’ll owe twopence, he said.
— Time enough, sir, she said, taking the coin. Time enough. Good morning, sir.
She curtseyed and went out, followed by Buck Mulligan’s tender chant :
— Heart of my heart, were it more,
- More would be laid at your feet.
He turned to Stephen and said :
— Seriously, Dedalus. I’m stony. Hurry out to your school kip and bring us back some money. Today the bards must drink and junket. Ireland expects that every man this day will do his duty.
— That reminds me, Haines said, rising, that I have to visit your national library today.
— Our swim first, Buck Mulligan said.
He turned to Stephen and asked blandly :
— Is this the day for your monthly wash, Kinch?
Then he said to Haines :
— The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month.