"The chemist turned back page after page. Sandy shriveled smell he
seems to have. Shrunken skull. And old. Quest for the philosopher's
stone. The alchemists. Drugs age you after mental excitement.
Lethargy then. Why? Reaction. A lifetime in a night. Gradually
changes your character. Living all the day among the herbs,
ointments, disinfectants. All his alabaster lily pots. Mortar and
pestle. Aq. Dist. Fol. Laur.Te Virid. Smell amongst cure you like
the dentist's doorbell."
"I say you can keep it, Mr Bloom answered. I was going to throw it
away that moment. Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then
thrust the outspread sheets back on
Mr Bloom's arms. -I'll risk it,
he said. Here, thanks."
