hen, chuckling,
chortling, trumming, twanging, they diddle diddle cakewalk dance away.)_

BLOOM: _(With a sour tenderish smile)_ A little frivol, shall we, if
you are so inclined? Would you like me perhaps to embrace you just for a
fraction of a second?

MRS BREEN: _(Screams gaily)_ O, you ruck! You ought to see yourself!

BLOOM: For old sake' sake. I only meant a square party, a mixed marriage
mingling of our different little conjugials. You know I had a soft
corner for you. _(Gloomily)_ 'Twas I sent you that valentine of the dear
gazelle.

MRS BREEN: Glory Alice, you do look a holy show! Killing simply. _(She
puts out her hand inquisitively)_ What are you hiding behind your back?
Tell us, there's a dear.

BLOOM: _(Seizes her wrist with his free hand)_ Josie Powell that was,
prettiest deb in Dublin. How time flies by! Do you remember, harking
back in a retrospective arrangement, Old Christmas night, Georgina
Simpson's housewarming while they were playing the Irving Bishop game,
finding the pin blindfold and thoughtreading? Subject, what is in this
snuffbox?

MRS BREEN: You were the lion of the night with your seriocomic
recitation and you looked the part. You were always a favourite with the
ladies.

BLOOM: _(Squire of dames, in dinner jacket with wateredsilk facings,
blue masonic badge in his buttonhole, black bow and mother-of-pearl
studs, a prismatic champagne glass tilted in his hand)_ Ladies and
gentlemen, I give you Ireland, home and beauty.

MRS BREEN: The dear dead days beyond recall. Love's old sweet song.

BLOOM: _(Meaningfully dropping his voice)_ I confess I'm teapot with
curiosity to find out whether some person's something is a little teapot
at present.

MRS BREEN: _(Gushingly)_ Tremendously teapot! London's teapot and I'm
simply teapot all over me! _(She rubs sides with him)_ After the parlour
mystery games and the crackers from the tree we sat on the staircase
ottoman. Under the mistletoe. Two is company.

BLOOM: _(Wearing a purple Napoleon hat with an amber halfmoon, his
fingers and thumb passing slowly down to her soft moist meaty palm which
she surrenders gently)_ The witching hour of night. I took the splinter
out of this hand, carefully, slowly. _(Tenderly, as he slips on her
finger a ruby ring) La ci darem la mano._

MRS BREEN: _(In a onepiece evening frock executed in moonlight blue, a
tinsel sylph's diadem on her brow with her dancecard fallen beside
her moonblue satin slipper, c