- What time is that? asked Blazes Boylan. Four?
Lenehan, small eyes ahunger on her humming, bust ahumming, tugged Blazes Boylan's elbowsleeve.
— Let's hear the time, he said.
The bag of Goulding, Collis, Ward led Bloom by ryebloom flowered tables. Aimless he chose with agitated aim, bald Pat attending, a table near the door. Be near." (U11.382)
Sparkling bronze azure eyed Blazure's skyblue bow and eyes.
— Go on, pressed Lenehan. There's no-one. He never heard.
— ... to Flora's lips did hie.
High, a high note pealed in the treble clear." (U11.392)
- Please, please.
He pleaded over returning phrases of avowal.
- I could not leave thee...
- Afterwits, Miss Douce promised coyly.
- No, now, urged Lenehan. Sonnez la cloche! O do! There's no-one.
She looked. Quick. Miss Kenn out of earshot. Sudden bent. Two kindling faces watched her bend. " (U11.398)
Bending, she nipped a peak of skirt above her knee. Delayed. Taunted them still, bending, suspending, with wilful eyes.
Smack. She let free sudden in rebound her nipped elastic garter smackwarm against her smackable woman's warmhosed thigh." (U11.409)
Sawdust, as I learned from the Police Gazette (1880), was used to make paddings called 'symmetries'.
- You're the essence of vulgarity, she in gliding said.
Boylan, eyed, eyed. Tossed to fat lips his chalice, drankoff his chalice tiny, sucking the last fat violet syrupy drops. He spellbound eyes went after, after her gliding head as it went down the bar by mirrors, gilded arch for ginger ale, hock and claret glasses shimmering, a spiky shell, where it concerted, mirrored, bronze with sunnier bronze.
Yes, bronze from anearby.
- ...sweetheart, goodbye!" (U11.416)"
He slid his chalice brisk away, grasped his change.
- Wait a shake, begged Lenehan, drinking quickly. I wanted to tell you. Tom Rochford...
- Come on to blazes, said Blazes Boylan, going.
Lenehan gulped to go." (U11.426)
He followed the hasty creaking shoes but stood by nimbly by the threshold, saluting forms, a bulky with a slender." (U11.432)
- Eh? How do? How do? Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe. He won't give you any trouble, Bob. Alf Bergan will speak to the long fellow. We'll put a barleystraw in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time.
Sighing Mr Dedalus came through the saloon, a finger soothing an eyelid.
- Hoho, we will, Ben Dollard yodled jollily. Come on, Simon. Give us a ditty. We heard the piano." (U11.435)
—What's that? Mr Dedalus said. I was only vamping, man.
— Come on, come on, Ben Dollard called. Begone dull care. Come, Bob.
He ambled Dollard, bulky slops, before them (hold that fellow with the: hold him now) into the saloon." (U11.444)
Jingle a tinkle jaunted.
Bloom heard a jing, a little sound. He's off. Light sob of breath Bloom sighed on the silent bluehued flowers. Jingling. He's gone. Jingle. Hear.
- Love and war, Ben, Mr Dedalus said. God be with old times." (U11.453)