ed his head. From his arm a folded dustcoat,
a stick and an umbrella dangled to his stride.

--Watch him, Mr Bloom said. He always walks outside the lampposts.
Watch!

--Who is he if it's a fair question? Mrs Breen asked. Is he dotty?

--His name is Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, Mr
Bloom said smiling. Watch!

--He has enough of them, she said. Denis will be like that one of these
days.

She broke off suddenly.

--There he is, she said. I must go after him. Goodbye. Remember me to
Molly, won't you?

--I will, Mr Bloom said.

He watched her dodge through passers towards the shopfronts. Denis Breen
in skimpy frockcoat and blue canvas shoes shuffled out of Harrison's
hugging two heavy tomes to his ribs. Blown in from the bay. Like old
times. He suffered her to overtake him without surprise and thrust
his dull grey beard towards her, his loose jaw wagging as he spoke
earnestly.

Meshuggah. Off his chump.

Mr Bloom walked on again easily, seeing ahead of him in sunlight the
tight skullpiece, the dangling stickumbrelladustcoat. Going the two
days. Watch him! Out he goes again. One way of getting on in the world.
And that other old mosey lunatic in those duds. Hard time she must have
with him.

U.P.: up. I'll take my oath that's Alf Bergan or Richie Goulding. Wrote
it for a lark in the Scotch house I bet anything. Round to Menton's
office. His oyster eyes staring at the postcard. Be a feast for the
gods.

He passed the _Irish Times_. There might be other answers Iying there.
Like to answer them all. Good system for criminals. Code. At their lunch
now. Clerk with the glasses there doesn't know me. O, leave them there
to simmer. Enough bother wading through fortyfour of them. Wanted, smart
lady typist to aid gentleman in literary work. I called you naughty
darling because I do not like that other world. Please tell me what is
the meaning. Please tell me what perfume does your wife. Tell me who
made the world. The way they spring those questions on you. And the
other one Lizzie Twigg. My literary efforts have had the good fortune to
meet with the approval of the eminent poet A. E. (Mr Geo. Russell). No
time to do her hair drinking sloppy tea with a book of poetry.

Best paper by long chalks for a small ad. Got the provinces now. Cook
and general, exc. cuisine, housemaid kept. Wanted live man for spirit
counter. Resp. girl (R.C.) wishes to hear of post in fruit or pork shop.
James Carlisle ma