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Ulysses (24th Nov 22 at 2:19am UTC)
I went to pick her up that night when the wind was blowing hard. Goodwin's recital had just finished in the dining room or oak room of the mayor's mansion. The lodge is having a meeting there about the lottery. He and I walked behind. I had her sheet music in my hand, one of which was scratched and stuck to the railing of the high school building. Fortunately, it didn't scrape away. This kind of thing will spoil her mood for the whole evening. Professor Goodwin and she walked arm in arm in front. The poor old drunkard tottered and faltered. This is his farewell concert, and it must be his last appearance on any stage. Maybe for a few months, maybe forever [65]. I still remember her smiling at the wind and raising her collar to keep out the wind and snow. Do you remember? On the corner of Harcourt Street. A gust of wind. Whoo, whoo! Her whole skirt was lifted up. Her cylinder of fur choked old Goodwin almost to death. Her face was flushed by the wind. I remember when I got home, I stirred up the fire, fried a few pieces of lamb for her dinner, and poured her favorite chutney on it. And hot rum with sugar and spice. From the fireplace, she could be glimpsed in the bedroom undoing the tight metal clips. Snow-white. Her tight skin fell lightly on the bed with a whoosh. Always with her body heat. She always likes to let go of everything. She sat there until nearly two o'clock, taking off her hairpins one by one. Millie was wrapped up in her cot. Happiness, happiness,plastic packing tube, on that night. "Oh, Mr Bloom, how are you?" "Oh, how are you, Mrs. Breen?" "It's useless to complain.". How's Molly doing? I haven't seen her for a long time. 。” "In good spirits,pump tube," said Mr Bloom gaily. "Well, you know, Milly's got a job at Mullingar." Have you left home? That's really something !” "Yeah, working in a photo studio.". Busy as a fire. How are your children? "Everyone has a mouth to eat," said Mrs. Breen. How many children does she have? It's not like you're pregnant right now. 。“ You're wearing filial piety. Is it.. ?” 'No, 'said Mr Bloom.' I've just been to a funeral. ' As you can imagine, people will be asking all day today, who is dead? When and how did he die? ? I can't hide anyway. 。“ "Oh dear, plastic laminted tube ,plastic cosmetic tubes," said Mrs. Breen, "I hope it isn't any near relation." We might as well let her show her sympathy. "Dignam," said Mr. Bloom, "is an old friend of mine. He died very suddenly, poor man. I believe it was a heart attack. The funeral was held this morning. Your funeral is tomorrow, When you walk through a barnyard [67]. Hi Yo Ho, Ee Ya Hi, Hey yo ho.. "It's sad to see an old friend die," said Mrs. Breen, with a sorrowful look in her feminine eyes. Let's stop here. Enough is enough. Give her husband a gentle greeting. How is your husband, the head of the family? Mrs. Breen raised her large eyes. Her eyes had not lost their luster. Oh. Don't mention him! "She said." He's a man who would frighten a rattlesnake. Now he was in the restaurant with the law book, looking up the statute of libel. My life will be in his hands sooner or later. Wait a minute. I'll show you something. A hot steam of imitation turtle soup and the heat of freshly baked puff tarts and jam pudding rolls rose from Harrison's. The strong smell of lunch whetted Mr Bloom's appetite. To make a delicious pastry, you need butter, fine flour, and demerara sugar [68]. Or eat it with piping hot black tea. Perhaps the smell comes from this woman? A barefoot waif stood at the latticed window. Smell the fragrance. To ease the pain of hunger. Is this pleasure or pain? Cheap lunch 。 Knives and forks are locked on the table. She opened the handbag made of thin leather. A brooch in a hat: Be careful with that-don't poke anyone in the eye in the tram. Make a mess of it. Keep your mouth open. Coins. Please take one for yourself. If they lose a sixpence, they will be in trouble. Earthshaking.
"What happened to the ten shillings I gave you on Monday?" Cried the husband? Are you supporting your brother's family? ? Dirty handkerchief 。 Medicine bottle. What just fell down is the throat tablet. What does this woman want? "It must be a crescent moon," she said. "It's the same old thing. What do you think he did last night? She stopped rummaging with her hands. She stared at him with wide-open eyes, very surprised, but still smiling. 'What's The matter? 'Asked Mr Bloom. Let her talk. Staring straight into her eyes. I'll take your word for it. Trust me. "He woke me up in the night," she said. "He had a dream, a nightmare." Indigestion. He said, "Here comes the 70 of spades coming up the stairs." "One of spades!" Said Mr Bloom. She fished a folded postcard out of her handbag. "Read it," she said. "He got it this morning." "What's this?" Said Mr Bloom, taking the postcard. "It's all over." "It's all over: it's over," she said. "Someone's playing a trick on him. Whoever did it was wicked. "Indeed it is," said Mr. Bloom. She took the postcard back and sighed. He's going to Mr. Menton's office right now. He said he would sue for ten thousand pounds. She folded the postcard, put it back in her messy handbag, and snapped on the metal bayonet. She wore the same blue serge dress two years ago, and the material had faded. Once upon a time,custom cosmetic packaging, it had its day. There was a small tousled lock of hair on the ear. And the gaudy bonnet, with three antique grape beads on it, was barely able to go out. A shabby lady. She used to be very particular about her clothes. Now there are wrinkles around the mouth. Only a year or two older than Molly. emptycosmetictubes.com
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