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Updated: July 16, 2025
Those homely recipes are often the best: strawberries for the teeth: nettles and rainwater: oatmeal they say steeped in buttermilk. Skinfood. One of the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it? had only one skin. Leopold, yes. Three we have. Warts, bunions and pimples to make it worse. But you want a perfume too. What perfume does your? Peau d'Espagne. That orangeflower water is so fresh.
I'll write to a powerful prostitute or Bartholomona, the bearded woman, to raise weals out on him an inch thick and make him bring me back a signed and stamped receipt. BLOOM: Thank you, sir. I will, sir. May I bring two men chums to witness the deed and take a snapshot? Orangeflower...? Lukewarm water...? Tell us. What. O, he simply idolises every bit of her! Stuck together! Covered with kisses!
She made salves and eyewaters, powders and confects, cordials and persico, orangeflower water and cherry brandy, each in its due season, and all of the best. She was wise, too, in herbs and simples. The villagers and the farm labourers would rather any day have her advice upon their ailments than that of Dr. Jackson of Purbrook, who never mixed a draught under a silver crown.
MARION: So you notice some change? Go and see life. See the wide world. BLOOM: I was just going back for that lotion whitewax, orangeflower water. Shop closes early on Thursday. But the first thing in the morning. Ah! THE SOAP: We're a capital couple are Bloom and I. He brightens the earth. I polish the sky. SWENY: Three and a penny, please. BLOOM: Yes. For my wife. Mrs Marion. Special recipe.
Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom said, and then orangeflower water... It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. And white wax also, he said. Brings out the darkness of her eyes. Looking at me, the sheet up to her eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when I was fixing the links in my cuffs.
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