urves her palm softly, breathing quickly)
Voglio e non._ You're hot! You're scalding! The left hand nearest the
heart.

BLOOM: When you made your present choice they said it was beauty and
the beast. I can never forgive you for that. _(His clenched fist at
his brow)_ Think what it means. All you meant to me then. _(Hoarsely)_
Woman, it's breaking me!

_(Denis Breen, whitetallhatted, with Wisdom Hely's sandwich-boards,
shuffles past them in carpet slippers, his dull beard thrust out,
muttering to right and left. Little Alf Bergan, cloaked in the pall of
the ace of spades, dogs him to left and right, doubled in laughter.)_

ALF BERGAN: _(Points jeering at the sandwichboards)_ U. p: Up.

MRS BREEN: _(To Bloom)_ High jinks below stairs. _(She gives him the
glad eye)_ Why didn't you kiss the spot to make it well? You wanted to.

BLOOM: _(Shocked)_ Molly's best friend! Could you?

MRS BREEN: _(Her pulpy tongue between her lips, offers a pigeon kiss)_
Hnhn. The answer is a lemon. Have you a little present for me there?

BLOOM: _(Offhandedly)_ Kosher. A snack for supper. The home without
potted meat is incomplete. I was at _Leah._ Mrs Bandmann Palmer.
Trenchant exponent of Shakespeare. Unfortunately threw away the
programme. Rattling good place round there for pigs' feet. Feel.

_(Richie Goulding, three ladies' hats pinned on his head, appears
weighted to one side by the black legal bag of Collis and Ward on which
a skull and crossbones are painted in white limewash. He opens it
and shows it full of polonies, kippered herrings, Findon haddies and
tightpacked pills.)_

RICHIE: Best value in Dub.

_(Bald Pat, bothered beetle, stands on the curbstone, folding his
napkin, waiting to wait.)_

PAT: _(Advances with a tilted dish of spillspilling gravy)_ Steak and
kidney. Bottle of lager. Hee hee hee. Wait till I wait.

RICHIE: Goodgod. Inev erate inall...

_(With hanging head he marches doggedly forward. The navvy, lurching by,
gores him with his flaming pronghorn.)_

RICHIE: _(With a cry of pain, his hand to his back)_ Ah! Bright's!
Lights!

BLOOM: _(Ooints to the navvy)_ A spy. Don't attract attention. I hate
stupid crowds. I am not on pleasure bent. I am in a grave predicament.

MRS BREEN: Humbugging and deluthering as per usual with your cock and
bull story.

BLOOM: I want to tell you a little secret about how I came to be here.
But you must never tell. Not even Molly. I have a most particular
reason.

MRS