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And they shall stone him and defile him, yea, all from Agendath Netaim and from Mizraim, the land of Ham. Many bonafide travellers and ownerless dogs come near him and defile him. Mastiansky and Citron approach in gaberdines, wearing long earlocks. MASTIANSKY AND CITRON: Belial! Laemlein of Istria, the false Messiah! Abulafia! Recant! MESIAS: To alteration one pair trousers eleven shillings.
A hackney car, number three hundred and twentyfour, driver Barton James of number one Harmony avenue, Donnybrook, on which sat a fare, a young gentleman, stylishly dressed in an indigoblue serge suit made by George Robert Mesias, tailor and cutter, of number five Eden quay, and wearing a straw hat very dressy, bought of John Plasto of number one Great Brunswick street, hatter. Eh?
Working overtime but her luck's turned today. BLOOM: Not I! ZOE: You both in black. Has little mousey any tickles tonight? ZOE: How's the nuts? BLOOM: Off side. Curiously they are on the right. Heavier, I suppose. One in a million my tailor, Mesias, says. BLOOM: Not likely. ZOE: I feel it. BLOOM: A talisman. Heirloom. ZOE: For Zoe? For keeps? For being so nice, eh? He smiles uneasily.
Tinge of purple. I had one like that when we lived in Lombard street west. Dressy fellow he was once. Used to change three suits in the day. Must get that grey suit of mine turned by Mesias. Hello. It's dyed. His wife I forgot he's not married or his landlady ought to have picked out those threads for him. The coffin dived out of sight, eased down by the men straddled on the gravetrestles.
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