Four Novels by James Joyce. James Joyce
the left slot for them. It shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased, ogling them: six.
Lawyers of the past, haughty, pleading, beheld pass from the consolidated taxing office to Nisi Prius court Richie Goulding carrying the costbag of Goulding, Collis and Ward and heard rustling from the admiralty division of king's bench to the court of appeal an elderly female with false teeth smiling incredulously and a black silk skirt of great amplitude.
--See? he said. See now the last one I put in is over here: Turns Over. The impact. Leverage, see?
He showed them the rising column of disks on the right.
--Smart idea, Nosey Flynn said, snuffling. So a fellow coming in late can see what turn is on and what turns are over.
--See? Tom Rochford said.
He slid in a disk for himself: and watched it shoot, wobble, ogle, stop: four. Turn Now On.
--I'll see him now in the Ormond, Lenehan said, and sound him. One good turn deserves another.
--Do, Tom Rochford said. Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience.
--Goodnight, M'Coy said abruptly. When you two begin
Nosey Flynn stooped towards the lever, snuffling at it.
--But how does it work here, Tommy? he asked.
--Tooraloo, Lenehan said. See you later.
He followed M'Coy out across the tiny square of Crampton court.
--He's a hero, he said simply.
--I know, M'Coy said. The drain, you mean.
--Drain? Lenehan said. It was down a manhole.
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