He clapped the hat on his head again.
--It's all right now, Martin Cunningham said.
John Henry Menton jerked his head down in acknowledgment.
--Thank you, he said shortly.
They walked on towards the gates. Mr Bloom, chapfallen, drew
behind a few paces so as not to overhear. Martin laying down the law.
Martin could wind a sappyhead like that round his little finger, without
his seeing it.
Oyster eyes. Never mind. Be sorry after perhaps when it dawns on him.
Get the pull over him that way.
Thank you. How grand we are this morning!
* * * * * * *
IN THE HEART OF THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS
Before Nelson's pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started
for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure,
Palmerston Park and upper Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines,
Ringsend and Sandymount Tower, Harold's Cross. The hoarse Dublin
United Tramway Company's timekeeper bawled them off:
--Rathgar and Terenure!
--Come on, Sandymount Green!
Right and left parallel clanging ringing a doubledecker and a
singledeck moved from their railheads, swerved to the down line, glided
parallel.
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