(Smiles, nods slowly.) More, houri, more.

ZOE: And more’s mother? (She pats him offhandedly with velvet paws.) Are you coming into the musicroom to see our new pianola? Come and I’ll peel off.

BLOOM: (Feeling his occiput dubiously with the unparalleled embarrassment of a harassed pedlar gauging the symmetry of her peeled pears.) Somebody would be dreadfully jealous if she knew.

The greeneyed monster. (Earnestly.) You know how difficult it is. I needn’t tell you.

ZOE: (Flattered.) What the eye can’t see the heart can’t grieve for. (She pats him.) Come.

BLOOM: Laughing witch! The hand that rocks the cradle.