M’Coy. Get rid of him quickly. Take me out of my way. Hate company when you.

Hello, Bloom. Where are you off to?

Hello, M’Coy. Nowhere in particular.

How’s the body?

Fine. How are you?

Just keeping alive, M’Coy said.

His eyes on the black tie and clothes he asked with low respect:

Is there any... no trouble I hope? I see you’re...

O, no, Mr Bloom said. Poor Dignam, you know. The funeral is today.

To be sure, poor fellow. So it is. What time?

A photo it isn’t. A badge maybe.