Ulysses
away and Zinfandel stood close order. It was anybody’s race
then the rank outsider drew to the fore, got long lead, beat-
ing lord Howard de Walden’s chestnut colt and Mr W. Bass’s
bay filly Sceptre on a 2 1/2 mile course. Winner trained by
Braime so that Lenehan’s version of the business was all
pure buncombe. Secured the verdict cleverly by a length.
1000 sovs with 3000 in specie. Also ran: J de Bremond’s
(French horse Bantam Lyons was anxiously inquiring after
not in yet but expected any minute) Maximum II. Different
ways of bringing off a coup. Lovemaking damages. Though
that halfbaked Lyons ran off at a tangent in his impetuosity
to get left. Of course gambling eminently lent itself to that
sort of thing though as the event turned out the poor fool
hadn’t much reason to congratulate himself on his pick, the
forlorn hope. Guesswork it reduced itself to eventually.
—There was every indication they would arrive at that,
he, Bloom, said.
—Who? the other, whose hand by the way was hurt,
said.
One morning you would open the paper, the cabman af-
firmed, and read: Return of Parnell. He bet them what they
liked. A Dublin fusilier was in that shelter one night and
said he saw him in South Africa. Pride it was killed him.
He ought to have done away with himself or lain low for a
time after committee room no 15 until he was his old self
again with no-one to point a finger at him. Then they would
all to a man have gone down on their marrowbones to him
to come back when he had recovered his senses. Dead he
wasn’t. Simply absconded somewhere. The coffin they