Part 41

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌⁠THE WREATHS: Sweet are the sweets. Sweets of sin.

BLOOM: My spine’s a bit limp. Go or turn? And this food? Eat it and get all pigsticky. Absurd I am. Waste of money. One and eightpence too much. (The retriever drives a cold snivelling muzzle against his hand, wagging his tail.) Strange how they take to me. Even that brute today. Better speak to him first. Like women they like rencontres. Stinks lik