Улисс

           StoppedwithDickTivy.

           —AndhowisDick,thesolidman?

           —Nothingbetweenhimselfandheaven,NedLambertanswered.

           —BytheholyPaul!MrDedalussaidinsubduedwonder.DickTivybald?

           —Martinisgoingtogetupawhipfortheyoungsters,NedLambertsaid,pointingahead.Afewbobaskull.Justtokeepthemgoingtilltheinsuranceisclearedup.

           —Yes,yes,MrDedalussaiddubiously.Isthattheeldestboyinfront?

           —Yes,NedLambertsaid,withthewife’sbrother.JohnHenryMentonisbehind.Heputdownhisnameforaquid.

           —I’llengagehedid,MrDedalussaid.IoftentoldpoorPaddyheoughttomindthatjob.JohnHenryisnottheworstintheworld.

           —Howdidheloseit?NedLambertasked.Liquor,what?

           —Manyagoodman’sfault,MrDedalussaidwithasigh.

           Theyhaltedaboutthedoorofthemortuarychapel.MrBloomstoodbehindtheboywiththewreathlookingdownathissleekcombedhairandattheslenderfurrowedneckinsidehisbrandnewcollar.Poorboy!Washetherewhenthefather?Bothunconscious.Lightenupatthelastmomentandrecogniseforthelasttime.Allhemighthavedone.IowethreeshillingstoO’Grady.Wouldheunderstand?Themutesborethecoffinintothechapel.Whichendishishead?

           Afteramomenthefollowedtheothersin,blinkinginthescreenedlight.Thecoffinlayonitsbierbeforethechancel,fourtallyellowcandlesatitscorners.Alwaysinfrontofus.CornyKelleher,layingawreathateachforecorner,beckonedtotheboytokneel.Themournersknelthereandthereinprayingdesks.