And then he added； with rather gallowsbird humour； considering his alleged end：
As bad as old Antonio；
For he left me on my ownio。
The face of a streetwalker； glazed and haggard under a black straw hat； peered askew round the door of the shelter； palpably reconnoitring on her own with the object of bringing more grist to her mill。 Mr Bloom； scarcely knowing which way to look； turned away on the moment； flusterfied but outwardly calm； and picking up from the table the pink sheet of the Abbey street organ which the jarvey； if such he was； had laid aside； he picked it up and looked at the pink of the paper though why pink？ His reason for so doing was he recognised on the moment round the door the same face he had caught a fleeting glimpse of that afternoon on Ormond Quay； the partially idiotic female； namely； of the lane； who knew the lady in the brown costume does be with you （Mrs B。）； and begged the chance of his washing。 Also why washing； which seemed rather vague than not？
Your washing。 Still； candour pelled him to admit that he had washed his wife's undergarments when soiled in Holles Street and women would and did too a man's similar garments initialled with Bewley and Draper's marking ink （hers were； that is） if they really loved him； that is to say。 Love me； love my dirty shirt。 Still； just then； being on tenterhooks； he desired the female's room more than her pany so it came as a genuine relief when the keeper made her a rude sign to take herself off。 Round the side of the Evening Telegraph he just caught a fleeting glimpse of her face round the side of the door with a kind of demented glassy grin showing that she was not exactly all there； viewing with evident amusement the group of gazers round Skipper Murphy's nautical chest and then there was no more of her。
The gunboat； the keeper said。
It beats me； Mr Bloom confided to Stephen； medically I am speaking； how a wretched creature like that from the Lock Hospital； reeking with disease； can be barefaced enough to solicit or how any man in his sober senses； if he values his health in the least。 Unfortunate creature！ Of course； I suppose some man is ultimately responsible for her condition。 Still no matter what the cause is from。。。
Stephen had not noticed her and shrugged his shoulders； merely remarking：
In this country people sell much more than she ever had and do a roaring trade。 Fear not them that sell the body but have not power to buy the soul。 She is a bad merchant。 She buys dear and sells cheap。
The elder man； though not by any manner of means an old maid or a prude； said that it was nothing short of a crying scandal that ought to be put a stop to instanter to say that women of that stamp （quite apart from any oldmaidish squeamishness on the subject）； a necessary evil； were not licensed and medically inspected by the proper authorities； a thing he could truthfully state he； as a paterfamilias； was a stalwart advocate of from the very first start。 Whoever embarked on a policy of that sort； he said； and ventilated the matter thoroughly would confer a lasting boon on everybody concerned。
You； as a good catholic； he observed； talking of body and soul； believe in the soul。 Or do you mean the intelligence； the brainpower as such； as distinct from any outside object； the table； let us say； that cup？ I believe in that myself because it has been explained by petent men as the convolutions of the grey matter。 Otherwise we would never have such inventions as X rays； for instance。 Do you？
Thus cornered； Stephen had to make a superhuman effort of memory to try and concentrate and remember before he could say：
They tell me on the best authority it is a simple substance and therefore incorruptible。 It would be immortal； I understand； but for the possibility of its annihilation by its First Cause； Who； from all I can hear； is quite capable of adding that to the number of His other practical jokes； corruptio per se and corruptio per accidens both being excluded by court etiquette。
Mr Bloom thoroughly acquiesced in the general gist of this though the mystical finesse involved was a bit out of his sublunary depth still he felt bound to enter a demurrer on the head of simple； promptly rejoining：
Simple？ I shouldn't think that is the proper word。 Of course； I grant you； to concede a point； you do knock across a simple soul once in a blue moon。 But what I am anxious to arrive at is it is one thing for instance to invent those rays R？ntgen did； Or the telescope like Edison； though I believe it was before his time； Galileo was the man I mean。 The same applies to the laws； for example； of a farreaching natural phenomenon such as electricity but it's a horse of quite another colour to say you believe in the existence of a supernatural God。
O； that； Stephen expostulated； has been proved conclusively by several of the best known passages in Holy Writ； apart from circumstantial evidence。 On this knotty point； however； the views of the pair； poles apart as they were； both in schooling and everything else； with the marked difference in their respective ages； clashed。
Has been？ the more experienced of the two objected； sticking to his original point。 I'm not so sure about that。 That's a matter of every man's opinion and； without dragging in the sectarian side of the business； I beg to differ with you in toto there。 My belief is； to tell you the candid truth； that those bits were genuine forgeries all of them put in by monks most probably or it's the big question of our national poet over again； who precisely wrote them； like Hamlet and Bacon； as you who know your Shakespeare infinitely better than I； of course I needn't tell you。 Can't you drink that coffee； by the way？ Let me stir it and take a piece of that bun。 It's like one of our skipper's bricks disguised。 Still； no one can give what he hasn't got。 Try a bit。
Couldn't； Stephen contrived to get out； his mental organs for the moment refusing to dictate further。
Faultfinding being a proverbially bad hat； Mr Bloom thought well to stir； or try to； the clotted sugar from the bottom and reflected with something approaching acrimony on the Coffee Palace and its temperance （and lucrative） work。 To be sure it was a legitimate object and beyond yea or nay did a world of good。 Shelters such as the present one they were in run on teetotal lines for vagrants at night； concerts； dramatic evenings； and useful lectures （admittance free） by qualified men for the lower orders。 On the other hand； he had a distinct and painful recollection they paid his wife； Madam Marion Tweedy who had been prominently associated with it at one time； a very modest remuneration indeed for her pianoplaying。 The idea； he was strongly inclined to believe； was to do good and net a profit； there being no petition to speak of。 Sulphate of copper poison； SO4 or something in some dried peas he remembered reading of in a cheap eatinghouse somewhere but he couldn't remember when it was or where。 Anyhow； inspection； medical inspection； of all eatables； seemed to him more than ever necessary which possibly accounted for the vogue of Dr Tibble's Vi…Cocoa on account of the medical analysis involved。
Have a shot at it now； he ventured to say of the coffee after being stirred。
Thus prevailed on to at any rate taste it； Stephen lifted the heavy mug from the brown puddle … it clopped out of it when taken up … by the handle and took a sip of the offending beverage。
Still； it's solid food； his good genius urged； I'm a stickler for solid food； his one and only reason being not gormandising in the least but regular meals as the sine qua non for any kind of proper work； mental or manual。 You ought to eat more solid food。 You would feel a different man。
Liquids I can eat； Stephen said。 But oblige me by taking away that knife。 I can't look at the point of it。 It reminds me of Roman history。
Mr Bloom promptly did as suggested and removed the incriminated article； a blunt hornhandled ordinary knife with nothing particularly Roman or antique about it to the lay eye； observing that the point was the least conspicuous point about it。
Our mutual friend's stories are like himself； Mr Bloom； apropos of knives； remarked to his confidente sotto voce。 Do you think they are genuine？ He could spin those yarns for hours on end all night long and lie like old boots。 Look at him。
Yet still； though his eyes were thick with sleep and sea air； life was full of a host of things and coincidences of a terrible nature and it was quite within the bounds of possibility that it was not an entire fabrication though at first blush there was not much inherent probability in all the spoof he got off his chest being strictly accurate gospel。
He had been meantime taking stock of the individual in front of him and Sherlockholmesing him up； ever since he clapped eyes on him。 Though a wellpreserved man of no little stamina； if a trifle prone to baldness； there was something spurious in the cut of his jib that suggested a jail delivery and it required no violent stretch of imagination to associate such a weirdlooking specimen with the oakum and treadmill fraternity。 He might even have done for his man； supposing it was his own case he told； as people often did about others； namely； that he killed him himself and had served his four or five goodlooking years in durance vile to say nothing of the Antonio personage （no relation to the dramatic personage of identical name who sprang from the pen Of our national poet） who expiated his crimes in the melodramatic manner above described。 On the other hand he might be only bluffing； a pardonable weakness； because meeting unmistakable mugs； Dublin residents； like those jarvies waiting news from abroad； would tempt any ancient mariner who sailed the ocean seas to draw the long bow about the schooner Hesperus and etcetera。 And when all was said and done； the lies a fellow told about himself couldn't probably hold a proverbial candle to the wholesale whoppers other fellows coined about him。
Mind you； I'm not saying that it's all a pure invention； he resumed。 Analogous scenes are occasionally； if not often； met with。 Giants； though； that is rather a far cry you see once in a way。 Marcella； the midget queen。 In those waxworks in Henry street I myself sa