"Takes it for granted we're going to pop off first. That widow on Monday was it outside Cramer's that looked at me. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the premium." (U17.1228)
"Her widow's mite. Well? What do you expect her to do? Must wheedle her way along. Widower I hate to see. Looks so forlorn. Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here. The sewage. Hopeless." (U13.1230)
"Some good matronly woman in a porkpie hat to mother him. Take him in tow, platter face and a large apron. Ladies' grey flannelette bloomers, three shillings a pair, astonishing bargain. Plain and loved, loved for ever, they say. Ugly: no woman thinks she is. Love, lie and be handsome for tomorrow we die. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out who played the trick. U. p: up. Fate that is. He, not me. Also a shop often noticed. Curse seems to dog it." (U13.1233)
"Dreamt last night? Wait. Something confused. She had red slippers on. Turkish. Wore the breeches. Suppose she does. Would I like her in pajamas? Damned hard to answer." (U13.1240)
"Nannetti's gone. Mailboat." (U13.1242)
As seen on this PC ad, 'magnificent streamers' provided accelerated mail and passenger transport between England and Ireland, some via Holyhead in Anglesey, Northern Wales. The trip from Kingwtown to Holyhead took 3 hrs.
This PC shows S.S. Hibernia, one of the boats in service on the Irish sea between Dublin and Holyhead in 1904. She was built in 1900, became HMS Tara during WWI, and was sunk by a torpedo in 1915.
"Near Holyhead by now. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Work Hynes and Crawford." (U13.1242)
This PC shows Nannetti's arrival port of Holyhead, Wales.
"Petticoats for Molly. She has something to put in them. What's that? Might be money." (U11.1244)
"What's that? Might be money.
Mr Bloom stooped and turned over a piece of paper on the strand. He brought it near his eyes and peered. Letter? No. Can't read. Better go. Better. I'm tired to move. Page of an old copybook. All those holes and pebbles. Who could count them? Never know what you find. Bottle with story of a treasure in it, thrown from a wreck. Parcels post. Children always want to throw things in the sea. Trust? Bread cast on the waters." (U13.1244)
"What's this? Bit of stick.
O! Exhausted that female has me. Not so young now. Will she come here tomorrow?" (U13.1252)
"Wait for her somewhere for ever. Must come back. Murderers do. Will I?
Mr Bloom with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his foot. Write a message for her. Might remain. What?
"Some flatfoot tramp on it in the morning. Useless. Washed away. Tide comes here. Saw a pool near her foot. Bend, see my face there, dark mirror, breathe on it, stirs. All these rocks with lines and scars and letters. O, those transparent! Besides they don't know. What is the meaning of that other world. I called you naughty boy because I do not like.
No room. Let it go.
Mr Bloom effaced the letters with his slow boot. Hopeless thing sand. Nothing grows in it. All fades." (U13.1259)
"All fades. No fear of big vessels coming up here. Except Guinness's barges." (U13.1267)
"Round the Kish in eighty days. Done half by design." (U13.1268)
"He flung his wooden pen away. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. Now if you were trying to do that for a week on end you couldn't. Chance. We'll never meet again. But it was lovely. Goodbye, dear. Thanks. Made me feel so young." (U13.1270)
"O sweety all your little girlwhite up I saw dirty bracegirdle made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon senorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in her next her next." (U13.1279)