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194 J A M E S [ 1904-1905 ]Joyce was still imperfectly aware of her existence. As early as November1904, he broached the idea that Dublin might come to Trieste or at leastto Europe in the person of Stanislaus. The younger brother, at loose endsin Dublin, was interested but hesitant. James advised him to grow amoustache, pretend to know everything, and dress magnificently, thusassuring himself of a fine future on the continent. Finally, he announcedto Stanislaus on February 28 that he interpreted his own condition asthat of an exile: i have come to accept my present situation as a voluntaryexile—is it not so? This seems to me important both because I amlikely to generate out of it a sufficiently personal future to satisfy Curran'sheart* and also because it supplies me with the note on which I proposeto bring my novel to a close.' 50His departure from Dublin with Norawould give the book its conclusion.Joyce did not like Pola, but he was not badly off there. He put onweight, grew a moustache, and with Nora's help in curling began to wearhis hair en brosse. He felt the first stirrings of dandyism. He went to thedentist as planned, and had some teeth fixed; t then he bought a newsuit. 51He rented a piano and sang his songs. But this cultivated life wasnot to last. Francini recalled later that the Austrians suddenly discoveredan espionage ring in Pola, in which an Italian was prominently involved;in reprisal, they decided to expel all aliens from the city. Through influence,he said, he was himself able to stay on for two weeks to settle hisaffairs, but Joyce had to leave at once. 52This account may be exaggerated,since official records do not support it. 53Joyce said only that hewas transferred to the Trieste branch of the Berlitz school. On a Sundaymorning at the beginning of March, Joyce and Nora Barnacle left for thecity that was to be their home during most of the next ten years, and thebirthplace of their children.* Curran had feared he would run out of autobiographical material and have no subjectfor a second book.t In Paris his teeth had been so bad that, when he occasionally yielded to his fondnessfor onion soup, the hot soup striking his teeth made him writhe in pain.