"Her full lips, drinking, smiled. Rather stale smell that incense leaves next day. Like foul flowerwater.
- Would you like the window open a little?
She doubled a slice of bread into her mouth, asking:
- What time is the funeral?
- Eleven, I think, he answered. I didn't see the paper." (U4.315)
"Following the pointing of her finger he took up a leg of her soiled drawers from the bed. No? Then, a twisted grey garter looped round a stocking: rumpled, shiny sole.
- No: that book.
Other stocking. Her petticoat.
- It must have fell down, she said." (U4.321)
"He felt here and there. Voglio e non vorrei. Wonder if she pronounces that right: voglio. Not in the bed. Must have slid down. He stooped and lifted the valance. The book, fallen, sprawled against the bulge of the orangekeyed" (U4.327)

The (Greek) key is a geometrical pattern used by Ancient Greeks in carvings and on pottery. There are many variations on it. You can see a simple Greek key on the scarf of the woman in this PC, and on the head band of the famous Charioteer statue in Delphi. Although its meaning is unknown, it has been postulated that the Greek key may be connected to the labyrinth where Theseus fought the Minotaur.
"chamberpot." (U4.330)

Now imagine the chamberpot with an orange key design along its rim...
"Dolphin's Barn." (U4.345)
"He turned over the smudged pages. Ruby: the Pride of the Ring." (U4.345)
"Hello. Illustration. Fierce Italian with carriagewhip. Must be Ruby pride of the on the floor naked. Sheet kindly lent. The monster Maffei desisted and flung his victim from him with an oath. Cruelty behind it all." (U4.346)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Doped animals. Trapeze at Hengler's. Had to look the other way. Mob gaping. Break your neck and we'll break our sides." (U4.349)
"Families of them. Bone them young so they metamspychosis. That we live after death. Our souls. That a man's soul after he dies, Dignam's soul..." (U4.351)
"- Did you finish it? he asked.
- Yes, she said. There's nothing smutty in it. Is she in love with the first fellow all the time?
- Never read it. Do you want another?
- Get another of Paul de Kock's. Nice name he has.
She poured more tea into her cup, watching it flow sideways." (U4.354)
"Must get that Capel street library book renewed or they'll write to Kearney, my guarantor. Reincarnation: that's the word.
- Some people believe, he said, that we go on living in another body after death, that we lived before. They call it reincarnation. That we all lived before on the earth thousands of years ago or some other planet. They say we have forgotten it. Some say they remember their past lives.
The sluggish cream wound curdling spirals through her tea. Better remind her of the word: metempsychosis. An example would be better. An example?" (U4.360)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"The Bath of the Nymph over the bed. Given away with the Easter number of Photo Bits: splendid masterpiece in art colours. Tea before you put milk in. Not unlike her with her hair down: slimmer. Three and six I gave for the frame. She said it would look nice over the bed. Naked nymphs: Greece: and for instance all the people that lived then." (U4.369)

[Note: 'The Bath of the Nymph' from Photo Bits has not yet been identified. This is 'La Source' (1856), a painting by the French artist J.A.D. Ingres, now in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris.]
"He turned the pages back.
- Metempsychosis, he said, is what the ancient Greeks called it. They used to believe you could be changed into an animal or a tree, for instance. What they called nymphs, for example." (U4.374)
"Her spoon ceased to stir up the sugar. She gazed straight before her, inhaling through her arched nostrils.
- There's a smell of burn, she said. Did you leave anything on the fire?
- The kidney! he cried suddenly.
He fitted the book roughly into his inner pocket and, stubbing his toes against the broken commode, hurried out towards the smell," (U4.378)
"stepping hastily down the stairs with a flurried stork's legs. Pungent smoke shot up in an angry jet from a side of the pan. By prodding a prong of the fork under the kidney he detached it and turned it turtle on its back. Only a little burnt. He tossed it off the pan on to a plate and let the scanty brown gravy trickle over it.
Cup of tea now. He sat down, cut and buttered a slice of the loaf. He shore away the burnt flesh and flung it to the cat. Then he put a forkful into his mouth, chewing with discernment the toothsome pliant meat. Done to a turn. A mouthful of tea. Then he cut away dies of bread, sopped one in the gravy and put it in his mouth. What was that about some young student and a picnic? He creased out the letter at his side, reading it slowly as he chewed, sopping another die of bread in the gravy and raising it to his mouth." (U4.383)
"Dearest Papli,
Thanks ever so much for the lovely birthday present. It suits me splendid. Everyone says I'm quite the belle in my new tam." (U4.397)