Page:Ulysses, 1922.djvu/428

richie

Goodgod. Inev erate inall…

(With hanging head he marches doggedly forward. The navvy, lurching by, gores him with his flaming pronghorn.)

richie

(With a cry of pain, his hand to his back.) Ah! Bright’s! Lights!

bloom

(Points to the navvy.) A spy. Don’t attract attention. I hate stupid crowds. I am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament.

mrs breen

Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and bull story.

bloom

I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here. But you must never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular reason.

mrs breen

(All agog.) O, not for worlds.

bloom

Let’s walk on. Shall us?

mrs breen

Let’s.

(The bawd makes an unheeded sign. Bloom walks on with Mrs Breen. The terrier follows, whining piteously, wagging his tail.)

the bawd

Jewman’s melt!

bloom

(In an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel, tony buff shirt, shepherd's plaid Saint Andrew's cross scarftie, white spats, fawn dustcoat on his