Solicitor, I think. I know his face. Menton. John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. Dignam used to be in his office. Mat Dillon's long ago. Jolly Mat. Convivial evenings. Cold fowl, cigars, the Tantalus glasses. Heart of gold really. Yes, Menton. Got his rag out that evening on the bowling green because I sailed inside him. Pure fluke of mine: the bias." (U6.1006)
- Excuse me, sir, Mr Bloom said beside them.
- Your hat is a little crushed, Mr Bloom said, pointing.
John Henry Menton stared at him for an instant without moving.
- There, Martin Cunningham helped, pointing also.
John Henry Menton took off his hat, bulged out the dinge and smoothed the nap with care on his coatsleeve." (U6.1015)
- It's all right now, Martin Cunningham said.
John Henry Menton jerked his head down in acknowledgment.
- Thank you, he said shortly." (U6.1022)
[Note: this is not John Henry Menton]
Oyster eyes. Never mind. Be sorry after perhaps when it dawns on him. Get the pull over him that way." (U6.1026)