Diminished Digits Prove Too Titillating for Frisky Frumps. Anne Wimbles, Flo Wangles⁠—Yet Can You Blame Them?

―Onehandled adulterer, he said grimly. That tickles me I must say.

―Tickled the old ones too, Myles Crawford said, if the God Almighty’s truth was known.

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother. Some school treat. Bad for their tummies. Lozenge and comfit manufacturer to His Majesty the King. God. Save. Our. Sitting on his throne, sucking red jujubes white.

A sombre Y. M. C. A. young man, watchful among the warm sweet fumes of Graham Lemon’s, placed a throwaway in a hand of Mr Bloom.

Heart to heart talks.