Seeing that the ruse worked and the coast was clear, they left the shelter or shanty together and the élite society of oilskin and company whom nothing short of an earthquake would move out of their dolce far niente . Stephen, who confessed to still feeling poorly and fagged out, paused at the, for a moment … the door to …
―One thing I never understood, he said, to be original on the spur of the moment, why they put tables upside down at night, I mean chairs upside down on the tables in cafés.
To which impromptu the neverfailing Bloom replied without a moment’s hesitation, saying straight off:
―To sweep the floor in the morning.
So saying he skipped around nimbly, considering frankly, at the same time apologetic, to get on his companion’s right, a habit of his, by the bye the right side being, in classical idiom, his tender Achilles. The night air was certainly now a treat to breathe though Stephen was a bit weak on his pins.