Page:Ulysses, 1922.djvu/428

Rh

Goodgod. Inev erate inall…

(With a cry of pain, his hand to his back.) Ah! Bright’s! Lights!

(Points 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.

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

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.

(All agog.) O, not for worlds.

Let’s walk on. Shall us?

Let’s.

Jewman’s melt!

(In an oatmeal sporting suit, a sprig of woodbine in the lapel, tony buff shirt, shepherd's plaid Saint Andrew's cross scarftie, white spats, fawn dustcoat on his