Ulysses by James Joyce Chapter 8 Page 93

condescending. They mistrust what you tell them. Pass a common remark.

The rain kept off.

No answer.

Stains on his coat. Slobbers his food, I suppose. Tastes all different for him. Have to be spoonfed first. Like a child’s hand, his hand.

Like Milly’s was. Sensitive. Sizing me up I daresay from my hand. Wonder if he has a name. Van. Keep his cane clear of the horse’s legs: tired drudge get his doze. That’s right. Clear. Behind a bull: in front of a horse.

Thanks, sir.

Knows I’m a man. Voice.

Right now? First turn to the left.

The blind stripling tapped