High brown boots with laces dangling. Wellturned foot. What is he foostering over that change for? Sees me looking. Eye out for other fellow always. Good fallback. Two strings to her bow.

Why? I said. What’s wrong with him? I said.

Proud: rich: silk stockings.

Yes, Mr Bloom said.

He moved a little to the side of M’Coy’s talking head. Getting up in a minute.

What’s wrong with him? He said. He’s dead, he said. And, faith, he filled up. Is it Paddy Dignam? I said. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. I was with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it in the Arch.

Yes, he said. He’s gone. He died on Monday, poor fellow.