Ulysses by James Joyce Chapter 8 Page 65

Yes, sir.

Like a few olives too if they had them. Italian I prefer. Good glass of burgundy take away that. Lubricate. A nice salad, cool as a cucumber, Tom Kernan can dress. Puts gusto into it.

Pure olive oil. Milly served me that cutlet with a sprig of parsley. Take one Spanish onion. God made food, the devil the cooks. Devilled crab.

Wife well?

Quite well, thanks... A cheese sandwich, then. Gorgonzola, have you?

Yes, sir.

Nosey Flynn sipped his grog.

Doing any singing those times?

Look at his mouth. Could whistle in his own ear. Flap ears to match. Music. Knows as much about it