The tea was drawn. He filled his own moustachecup, sham crown Derby, smiling. Silly Milly’s birthday gift. Only five she was then. No, wait: four. I gave her the amberoid necklace she broke. Putting pieces of folded brown paper in the letterbox for her. He smiled, pouring.

O, Milly Bloom, you are my darling.

You are my looking glass from night to morning.

I’d rather have you without a farthing

Than Katey Keogh with her ass and garden.

O, Milly Bloom, you are my darling. You are my looking glass from night to morning. I’d rather have you without a farthing Than Katey Keogh with her ass and garden.