"He took out his handkerchief to dab his nose. Citronlemon? Ah, the soap I put there. Lose it out of that pocket. Putting back his handkerchief he took out the soap and stowed it away, buttoned, into the hip pocket of his trousers.
What perfume does your wife use?" (U7.226)
"I could go home still: tram: something I forgot. Just to see: before: dressing. No. Here. No.
A sudden screech of laughter came from the Evening Telegraph office. Know who that is. What's up? Pop in a minute to phone. Ned Lambert it is.
He entered softly." (U7.230)
"ERIN, GREEN GEM OF THE SILVER SEA" (U7.235)
"- The ghost walks, professor MacHugh murmured softly, biscuitfully to the dusty windowpane." (U7.237

The ghost walks = it's payday
"Mr Dedalus, staring from the empty fireplace at Ned Lambert's quizzing face, asked of it sourly:
- Agonising Christ, wouldn't it give you a heartburn on your arse?
Ned Lambert, seated on the table, read on:
- Or again, note the meanderings of some purling rill as it babbles on its way, tho' quarrelling with the stony obstacles," (U7.239)
"to the tumbling waters of Neptune's blue domain, 'mid mossy banks fanned by gentlest zephyrs, played on by the glorious sunlight or 'neath the shadows cast o'er its pensive bosom by the overarching leafage of the giants of the forest. What about that, Simon? he asked over the fringe of his newspaper. How's that for high?
—Changing his drink, Mr Dedalus said.
Ned Lambert, laughing, struck the newspaper on his knees, repeating:
- The pensive bosom and the overarsing leafage. O boys! O boys!
- And Xenophon looked upon Marathon, Mr Dedalus said, looking again on the fireplace and to the window, and Marathon looked on the sea.
- That will do, professor MacHugh cried from the window. I don't want to hear any more of the stuff." (U7.244)
"He ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and, hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand." (U7.258)
"High falutin stuff. Bladderbags. Ned Lambert is taking a day off I see. Rather upsets a man's day, a funeral does. He has influence they say. Old Chatterton, the vice-chancellor, is his granduncle or his greatgranduncle. Close on ninety they say. Subleader for his death written this long time perhaps. Living to spite them. Might go first himself. Johnny, make room for your uncle. The right honourable Hedges Eyre Chatterton. Daresay he writes him an odd shaky cheque or two on gale days. Windfall when he kicks out. Alleluia." (U7.260)
"SHORT BUT TO THE POINT
- Whose land? Mr Bloom said simply.
- Most pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With an accent on the whose." (U7.272)
"SAD
Cleverest fellow at the junior bar he used to be. Decline, poor chap. That hectic flush spells finis for a man. Touch and go with him. What's in the wind, I wonder. Money worry.
- Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks.
- You're looking extra.
- Is the editor to be seen? J.J. O'Molloy asked, looking towards the inner door.
- Very much so, professor MacHugh said. To be seen and heard. He's in his sanctum with Lenehan." (U7.291)
"- Ah, listen to this for God's sake, Ned Lambert pleaded. Or again if we but climb the serried mountain peaks...
- Bombast! the professor broke in testily. Enough of the inflated windbag!
Peaks, Ned Lambert went on, towering high on high, to bathe our souls, as it were ...
- Bathe his lips, Mr Dedalus said. Blessed and eternal God! Yes? Is he taking anything for it?" (U8.313)
""- As 'twere, in the peerless panorama of Ireland's portfolio, unmatched, despite their wellpraised prototypes in other vaunted prize regions, for very beauty, of bosky grove and undulating plain and luscious pastureland of vernal green, steeped in the transcendent translucent glow of our mild mysterious Irish twilight...
- The moon, professor MacHugh said. He forgot Hamlet." (U7.320)
"-HIS NATIVE DORIC
- That mantles the vista far and wide and wait till the glowing orb of the moon shines forth to irradiate her silver effulgence...
- O! Mr Dedalus cried, giving vent to a hopeless groan. Shite and onions! That'll do, Ned. Life is too short.
He took off his silk hat and, blowing out impatiently his bushy moustache, welshcombed his hair with raking fingers.
Ned Lambert tossed the newspaper aside, chuckling with delight. An instant after a hoarse bark of laughter burst over professor MacHugh's unshaven blackspectacled face.
- Doughy Daw! he cried.

WHAT WETHERUP SAID
All very fine to jeer at it now in cold print but it goes down like hot cake that stuff. He was in the bakery line too, wasn't he? Why they call him Doughy Daw. Feathered his nest well anyhow." (U7.330)
"Daughter engaged to that chap in the inland revenue office with the motor. Hooked that nicely. Entertainments open house. Big blow out. Wetherup always said that. Get a grip of them by the stomach." (U7.340)
"The inner door was opened violently and a scarlet beaked face, crested by a comb of feathery hair, thrust itself in. The bold blue eyes stared about them and the harsh voice asked:
- What is it?
- And here comes the sham squire himself! professor MacHugh said grandly.
- Getonouthat, you bloody old pedagogue! the editor said in recognition." (U7.344)
"- Come, Ned, Mr Dedalus said, putting on his hat. I must get a drink after that.
- Drink! the editor cried. No drinks served before mass." (U7.351)
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