nd the isosceles
triangle miss Portinari he fell in love with and Leonardo and san
Tommaso Mastino.

--It's in the blood, Mr Bloom acceded at once. All are washed in the
blood of the sun. Coincidence I just happened to be in the Kildare
street museum 890 today, shortly prior to our meeting if I can so call
it, and I was just looking at those antique statues there. The splendid
proportions of hips, bosom. You simply don't knock against those kind of
women here. An exception here and there. Handsome yes, pretty in a way
you find but what I'm talking about is the female form. Besides they
have so little taste in dress, most of them, which greatly enhances a
woman's natural beauty, no matter what you say. Rumpled stockings, it
may be, possibly is, a foible of mine but still it's a thing I simply
hate to see.

Interest, however, was starting to flag somewhat all round and then the
others got on to talking about accidents at sea, ships lost in a fog,
goo collisions with icebergs, all that sort of thing. Shipahoy of course
had his own say to say. He had doubled the cape a few odd times and
weathered a monsoon, a kind of wind, in the China seas and through all
those perils of the deep there was one thing, he declared, stood to him
or words to that effect, a pious medal he had that saved him.

So then after that they drifted on to the wreck off Daunt's rock, wreck
of that illfated Norwegian barque nobody could think of her name for
the moment till the jarvey who had really quite a look of Henry Campbell
remembered it _Palme_ on Booterstown strand. That was the talk of the
town that year (Albert William Quill wrote a fine piece of original
verse of 910 distinctive merit on the topic for the Irish _Times_),
breakers running over her and crowds and crowds on the shore in
commotion petrified with horror. Then someone said something about the
case of the s. s. _Lady Cairns_ of Swansea run into by the _Mona_ which
was on an opposite tack in rather muggyish weather and lost with all
hands on deck. No aid was given. Her master, the _Mona's_, said he
was afraid his collision bulkhead would give way. She had no water, it
appears, in her hold.

At this stage an incident happened. It having become necessary for him
to unfurl a reef the sailor vacated his seat.

--Let me cross your bows mate, he said to his neighbour who was just
gently dropping off into a peaceful doze.

He made tracks heavily, slowly with a dumpy sort of a gait to t