That’s how it’s worked, says the citizen. Trade follows the flag.

Well, says J. J., if they’re any worse than those Belgians in the Congo Free State they must be bad. Did you read that report by a man what’s this his name is?

Casement, says the citizen. He’s an Irishman.

Yes, that’s the man, says J. J. Raping the women and girls and flogging the natives on the belly to squeeze all the red rubber they can out of them.

I know where he’s gone, says Lenehan, cracking his fingers.

Who? says I.

Bloom, says he. The courthouse is a blind. He had a few bob on Throwaway and he’s gone to gather in the shekels.