"- 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!" (U7.244)
"- 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." (U7.254)
"He ate off the crescent of water biscuit he had been nibbling and, hungered, made ready to nibble the biscuit in his other hand. High falutin stuff. Bladderbags." (U7.258)
"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." (U7.260)
"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.
— Just another spasm, Ned Lambert said.
— What is it? Mr Bloom asked." (U7.264)
"— A recently discovered fragment of Cicero, professor MacHugh answered with pomp of tone. Our lovely land." (U7.270)

— Whose land? Mr Bloom said simply." (U7.272)
"- Most pertinent question, the professor said between his chews. With an accent on the whose.
— Dan Dawson's land Mr Dedalus said.
— Is it his speech last night? Mr Bloom asked.
Ned Lambert nodded.
— But listen to this, he said." (U7.274)
"The doorknob hit Mr Bloom in the small of the back as the door was pushed in.
— Excuse me, J. J. O'Molloy said, entering.
Mr Bloom moved nimbly aside.
— I beg yours, he said." (U7.280)
"— Good day, Jack.
— Come in. Come in.
— Good day.
— How are you, Dedalus?
— Well. And yourself?
J. J. O'Molloy shook his head." (U7.285)

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." (U7.291)
"- Very much so, professor MacHugh said. To be seen and heard. He's in his sanctum with Lenehan.
J. J. O'Molloy strolled to the sloping desk and began to turn back the pink pages of the file.
Practice dwindling. A mighthavebeen. Losing heart. Gambling. Debts of honour. Reaping the whirlwind." (U7.299)
"Used to get good retainers from D. and T. Fitzgerald. Their wigs to show the grey matter. Brains on their sleeve like the statue in Glasnevin. Believe he does some literary work for the Express with Gabriel Conroy. Wellread fellow. Myles Crawford began on the Independent. Funny the way those newspaper men veer about when they get wind of a new opening." (U7.304)
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