She slipped a hand into her kerchief pocket and took out the wadding and waved in reply of course without letting him and then slipped it back.
Wonder if he' too far to. She rose. Was it goodbye? No. She had to go but they would meet again, there, and she would dream of that till then, tomorow, of her dream of yester eve. She drew herself up to her full height. Their souls met in a last lingering glance and the eyes that reached her heart, full of a strange shinning, hung enraptured on her sweet flowerlike face.
Ulysses, p. 301., 13/757-765
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