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He let out that Myler was on the beer to run up the odds and he swatting all the time. We know him, says the citizen. The traitor's son. We know what put English gold in his pocket. -True for you, says Joe. And Bloom cuts in again about lawn tennis and the circulation of the blood, asking Alf: Now, don't you think, Bergan? Myler dusted the floor with him, says Alf.
Ben Dollard's vague bass answered, turning an instant from Father Cowley's woe. He won't give you any trouble, Bob. Alf Bergan will speak to the long fellow. We'll put a barleystraw in that Judas Iscariot's ear this time. Sighing Mr Dedalus came through the saloon, a finger soothing an eyelid. Hoho, we will, Ben Dollard yodled jollily. Come on, Simon. Give us a ditty. We heard the piano.
And that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Hard time she must have with him. U.P.: up. I'll take my oath that's Alf Bergan or Richie Goulding. Wrote it for a lark in the Scotch house I bet anything. Round to Menton's office. His oyster eyes staring at the postcard. Be a feast for the gods. He passed the Irish Times. There might be other answers Iying there. Like to answer them all.
Bergan, says Bob Doran, waking up. Is that Alf Bergan? Yes, says Alf. Hanging? Wait till I show you. Here, Terry, give us a pony. That bloody old fool! Ten thousand pounds. You should have seen long John's eye. U. p... And he started laughing. Who are you laughing at? says Bob Doran. Is that Bergan? Hurry up, Terry boy, says Alf.
Little Alf Bergan popped in round the door and hid behind Barney's snug, squeezed up with the laughing. And who was sitting up there in the corner that I hadn't seen snoring drunk blind to the world only Bob Doran. I didn't know what was up and Alf kept making signs out of the door.
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