Mr Bloom watched her as she limped away. Poor girl！ That's why she's left on the shelf and the others did a sprint. Thought something was wrong by the cut of her jib. Jilted beauty. A defect is ten times worse in a woman. But makes them polite. Glad I didn't know it when she was on show. Hot little devil all The same. Wouldn't mind. Curiosity like a nun or a negress or a girl with glasses. That squinty one is delicate. Near her monthlies， I expect， makes them feel ticklish. I have such a bad headache today. Where did I put the letter？ Yes， all right. All kinds of crazy longings. Licking pennies. Girl in Tranquilla convent that nun told me liked to smell rock oil. Virgins go mad in the end I suppose. Sister？ How many women in Dublin have it today？ Martha， she. Something in the air. That's the moon. But then why don't all women menstruate at the same time with same moon， I mean？ Depends on the time they were born， I suppose. Or all start scratch then get out of step. Sometimes Molly and Milly together. Anyhow I got the best of that. Damned glad I didn't do it in the bath this morning over her silly I will punish you letter. Made up for that tramdriver this morning. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to say nothing. And his wife engagement in the country valise， voice like a pickaxe. Thankful for small mercies. Cheap too. Yours for the asking. Because they want it themselves. Their natural craving. Shoals of them every evening poured out of offices. Reserve better. Don't want it they throw it at you. Catch em alive， O. Pity they can't see themselves. A dream of wellfilled hose. Where was that？ Ah， yes. Muioscope pictures in Capel street： for men only. Peeping Tom. Willy's hat and what the girls did with it. Do they snapshot those girls or is it all a fake？ Lingerie does it. Felt for the curves inside her deshabillé. Excites them also when they're. I'm all clean come and dirty me. And they like dressing one another for the sacrifice. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. At first. Put them all on to take them all off. Molly. Why I bought her the violet garters. Us too： the tie he wore， his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. He wore a pair of gaiters the night that first we met. His lovely shirt was shining beneath his what？ of jet. Say a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes out. Pinned together. O Mairy lost the pin of her. Dressed up to the nines for somebody. Fashion part of their charm. Just changes when you're on the track of the secret. Except the east： Mary， Martha： now as then. No reasonable offer refused. She wasn't in a hurry either. Always off to a fellow when they are. They never forget an appointment. Out on spec probably. They believe in chance because like themselves. And the others inclined to give her an odd dig. Girl friends at school， arms round each other's neck or with ten fingers locked， kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the convent garden. Nuns with whitewashed faces， cool coif and their rosaries going up and down， vindictive too for what they can't get. Barbed wire. Be sure now and write to me. And I'll write to you. Now won't you？ Molly and Josie Powell. Till Mr Right comes along then meet once in a blue moon. Tableau！ O， look who it is for the love of God！ How are you at all？ What have you been doing with yourself？ Kiss and delighted to， kiss， to see you. Picking holes in each other's appearance. You're looking splendid. Sister souls showing their teeth at one another. How many have you left？ Wouldn't lend each other a pinch of salt.
Ah！
Devils they are when that's coming on them. Dark devilish appearance. Molly often told me feel things a ton weight. Scratch the sole of my foot. O that way！ O， that's exquisite！ Feel it myself too. Good to rest once in a way. Wonder if it's bad to go with them then. Safe in one way. Turns milk， makes fiddlestrings snap. Something about withering plants I read in a garden. Besides they say if the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. All are. Daresay she felt I. When you feel like that you often meet what you feel. Liked me or what？ Dress they look at. Always know a fellow courting： collars and cuffs. Well cocks and lions do the same and stags. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. Trousers？ Suppose I when I was？ No. Gently does it. Dislike rough and tumble. Kiss in the dark and never tell. Saw something in me. Wonder what. Sooner have me as I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease， plastery hair lovelock over his dexter optic. To aid gentleman in literary. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Didn't let her see me in profile. Still， you never know. Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Beauty and the beast. Besides I can't be so if Molly. Took off her hat to show her hair. Wide brim bought to hide her face， meeting someone might know her， bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell. Hair strong in rut. Ten bob I got for Molly's combings when we were on the rocks in Holles street. Why not？ Suppose he gave her money. Why not？ All a prejudice. She's worth ten， fifteen， more a pound. All that for nothing. Bold hand. Mrs Marion. Did I forget to write address on that letter like the postcard I sent to Flynn？ And the day I went to Drimmie's without a necktie. Wrangle with Molly it was put me off. No， I remember. Richie Goulding. He's another. Weighs on his mind. Funny my watch stopped at half past four. Dust. Shark liver oil they use to clean could do it myself. Save. Was that just when he， she？
O， he did. Into her. She did. Done.
Ah！
