Page 250 (11.181-218) "O saints... husky fifenotes."

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— O saints above! Miss Douce said, sighed above her jumping rose. I wished I hadn't laughed so much. I feel all wet.

sweaty


— O, Miss Douce! Miss Kennedy protested. You horrid thing!

(again, could they be joking about genitals??)


And flushed yet more (you horrid!), more goldenly.



By Cantwell's offices roved Greaseabloom, by Ceppi's virgins, bright of their oils. Nannetti's father hawked those things about, wheedling at doors as I. Religion pays. Must see him for that par. Eat first. I want. Not yet. At four, she said. Time ever passing. Clockhands turning. On. Where eat? The Clarence, Dolphin. On. For Raoul. Eat. If I net five guineas with those ads. The violet silk petticoats. Not yet. The sweets of sin.

oils?

Nanetti's father

the cheese sandwich was two or three hours ago


Flushed less, still less, goldenly paled.

'golden pale ale' was not yet a common phrase


Into their bar strolled Mr Dedalus. Chips, picking chips off one of his rocky thumbnails. Chips. He strolled.



— O welcome back, Miss Douce.

he's a regular


He held her hand. Enjoyed her holidays?.

(not a greasy old fogey)


— Tiptop.



He hoped she had nice weather in Rostrevor.

100 miles north, on coast


— Gorgeous, she said. Look at the holy show I am. Lying out on the strand all day.



Bronze whiteness.



— That was exceedingly naughty of you, Mr Dedalus told her and pressed her hand indulgently. Tempting poor simple males.

she's indulgent not him?


Miss Douce of satin douced her arm away.

silky sweet slide


— O go away, she said. You're very simple, I don't think.



He was.



— Well now I am, he mused. I looked so simple in the cradle they christened me simple Simon.



— You must have been a doaty, Miss Douce made answer. And what did the doctor order today?



— Well now, he mused, whatever you say yourself. I think I'll trouble you for some fresh water and a half glass of whisky.



Jingle.

(price?)

anticipating Boylan


— With the greatest alacrity, Miss Douce agreed.



With grace of alacrity towards the mirror gilt Cantrell and Cochrane's she turned herself. With grace she tapped a measure of gold whisky from her crystal keg. Forth from the skirt of his coat Mr Dedalus brought pouch and pipe. Alacrity she served. He blew through the flue two husky fifenotes.

(stylistic parody anticipates episode 12)

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