"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." (U5.119)
"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.
Watch! Watch! Silk flash rich stockings white. Watch!
A heavy tramcar honking its gong slewed between." (U5.124)
"Lost it. Curse your noisy pugnose. Feels locked out of it. Paradise and the peri. Always happening like that. The very moment. Girl in Eustace street hallway Monday was it settling her garter.
Her friend covering the display of. Esprit de corps. Well, what are you gaping at?
- Yes, yes, Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. Another gone.
- One of the best, M'Coy said." (U5.132)
"The tram passed. They drove off towards the Loop Line bridge, her rich gloved hand on the steel grip. Flicker, flicker: the laceflare of her hat in the sun: flicker, flick." (U5.138)
"- My missus has just got an engagement. At least it's not settled yet.
Valise tack again. By the way no harm. I'm off that, thanks.
Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness." (U5.148)
"My wife too, he said. She's going to sing at a swagger affair in the Ulster hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth.
- That so? M'Coy said. Glad to hear that, old man. Who's getting it up?" (U5.151)
"Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. No book. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Dark lady and fair man. Cat furry black ball. Torn strip of envelope." (U5.154)
"Love's
Old
Sweet
Song
Comes lo-ve's old..." (U3.157)
"- It's a kind of a tour, don't you see? Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Sweeeet song. There's a committee formed. Part shares and part profits.
M'Coy nodded, picking at his moustache stubble.
- O well, he said. That's good news.
He moved to go.
- Well, glad to see you looking fit, he said. Meet you knocking around.
- Yes, Mr Bloom said.
- Tell you what, M'Coy said. You might put down my name at the funeral, will you? I'd like to go but I mightn't be able, you see. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and then the coroner and myself would have to go down if the body is found." (U5.162)
"You just shove in my name if I'm not there, will you?
- I'll do that, Mr Bloom said, moving to get off. That'll be all right.
- Right, M'Coy said brightly. Thanks, old man. I'd go if I possibly could. Well, tolloll. Just C.P. M'Coy will do.
- That will be done, Mr Bloom answered firmly." (U5.172)
"Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. The quick touch. Soft mark. I'd like my job. Valise I have a particular fancy for. Leather. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Bob Cowley lent him his for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it from that good day to this." (U5.178)
"Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, smiled. My missus has just got an. Reedy freckled soprano. Cheeseparing nose. Nice enough in its way: for a little ballad. No guts in it. You and me, don't you know: in the same boat. Softsoaping. Give you the needle that would. Can't he hear the difference? Think he's that way inclined a bit. Against my grain somehow." (U5.183)
"Thought that Belfast would fetch him. I hope that smallpox up there doesn't get worse. Suppose she wouldn't let herself be vaccinated again. Your wife and my wife.
Wonder is he pimping after me?" (U5.188)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Mr Bloom stood at the corner, his eyes wandering over the multicoloured hoardings. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale (Aromatic)." (U5.192)
"Clery's Summer Sale. No, he's going on straight." (U5.194)

(Image courtesy of the ZJJF)
"Leah tonight: Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Like to see again her in that. Hamlet she played last night." (U5.194)

The Illustrated London News (July 1st, 1899) comments: "Mrs. Bandmann Palmer confesses to having studied Shakspere's tragedy from the age of fifteen, but only summoned up courage to appear as the distraught Prince since 1895. Since then she has played it some 270 times, and bids fair to hold a woman's record in the role. Making little or no pretence at aping masculinity, she offers her Hamlet rather as a psychological study than a vivid impersonation. For hours before Mrs. Bandmann Palmer appears in the part, she communes with herself in solitude."
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