Pat.
―Yes, Mr Bloom said, teasing the curling catgut line. It certainly is.
Few lines will do.
My present.
All that Italian florid music is.
Who is this wrote? Know the name you know better.
Take out sheet notepaper, envelope: unconcerned. It’s so characteristic.
―Grandest number in the whole opera, Goulding said.
―It is, Bloom said.
Numbers it is. All music when you come to think. Two multiplied by two divided by half is twice one. Vibrations: chords those are. One plus two plus six is seven. Do anything you like with figures juggling. Always find out this equal to that, symmetry under a cemetery wall. He doesn’t see my mourning. Callous: all for his own gut. Musemathematics. And you think you’re listening to the etherial. But suppose you said it like: Martha, seven times nine minus x is thirtyfive thousand. Fall quite flat. It’s on account of the sounds it is.
Instance he’s playing now. Improvising. Might be what you like till you hear the words. Want to listen sharp. Hard.