ich air is that? asked Leopold Bloom.

--_All is lost now_.

Richie cocked his lips apout. A low incipient note sweet banshee
murmured: all. A thrush. A throstle. His breath, birdsweet, good teeth
he's proud of, fluted with plaintive woe. Is lost. Rich sound. Two
notes in one there. Blackbird I heard in the hawthorn valley. Taking my
motives he twined and turned them. All most too new call is lost in all.
Echo. How sweet the answer. How is that done? All lost now. Mournful he
whistled. Fall, surrender, lost.

Bloom bent leopold ear, turning a fringe of doyley down under the vase.
Order. Yes, I remember. Lovely air. In sleep she went to him. Innocence
in the moon. Brave. Don't know their danger. Still hold her back. Call
name. Touch water. Jingle jaunty. Too late. She longed to go. That's
why. Woman. As easy stop the sea. Yes: all is lost.

--A beautiful air, said Bloom lost Leopold. I know it well.

Never in all his life had Richie Goulding.

He knows it well too. Or he feels. Still harping on his daughter. Wise
child that knows her father, Dedalus said. Me?

Bloom askance over liverless saw. Face of the all is lost. Rollicking
Richie once. Jokes old stale now. Wagging his ear. Napkinring in his
eye. Now begging letters he sends his son with. Crosseyed Walter sir I
did sir. Wouldn't trouble only I was expecting some money. Apologise.

Piano again. Sounds better than last time I heard. Tuned probably.
Stopped again.

Dollard and Cowley still urged the lingering singer out with it.

--With it, Simon.

--It, Simon.

--Ladies and gentlemen, I am most deeply obliged by your kind
solicitations.

--It, Simon.

--I have no money but if you will lend me your attention I shall
endeavour to sing to you of a heart bowed down.

By the sandwichbell in screening shadow Lydia, her bronze and rose, a
lady's grace, gave and withheld: as in cool glaucous _eau de Nil_ Mina
to tankards two her pinnacles of gold.

The harping chords of prelude closed. A chord, longdrawn, expectant,
drew a voice away.

--_When first I saw that form endearing_...

Richie turned.

--Si Dedalus' voice, he said.

Braintipped, cheek touched with flame, they listened feeling that flow
endearing flow over skin limbs human heart soul spine. Bloom signed to
Pat, bald Pat is a waiter hard of hearing, to set ajar the door of the
bar. The door of the bar. So. That will do. Pat, waiter, waited, waiting
to hear, for he was hard of hear by the doo