. O'Callaghan on his last legs. And Madame. Twenty past eleven. Up. Mrs Fleming is in to clean. Doing her hair, humming. voglio e non vorrei. No. vorrei e non. Looking at the tips of her hairs to see if they are split. Mi trema un poco il. Beautiful on that tre her voice is: weeping tone. A thrush. A throstle. There is a word throstle that expresses that. His eyes passed lightly over Mr Power's goodlooking face. Greyish over the ears. Madame: smiling. I smiled back. A smile goes a long way. Only politeness perhaps. Nice fellow. Who knows is that true about the woman he keeps? Not pleasant for the wife. Yet they say, who was it told me, there is no carnal. You would imagine that would get played out pretty quick. Yes, it was Crofton met him one evening bringing her a pound of rumpsteak. What is this she was? Barmaid in Jury's. Or the Moira, was it? They passed under the hugecloaked Liberator's form. Martin Cunningham nudged Mr Power. —Of the tribe of Reuben, he said. A tall blackbearded figure, bent on a stick, stumping round the corner of Elvery's Elephant house, showed them a curved hand open on his spine. —In all his pristine beauty, Mr Power said. Mr Dedalus looked after the stumping figure and said mildly: —The devil break the hasp of your back! Mr Power, collapsing in laughter, shaded his face from the window as the carriage passed Gray's statue. —We have all been there, Martin Cunningham said broadly. His eyes met Mr Bloom's eyes. He caressed his beard, adding: —Well, nearly all of us. Mr Bloom began to speak with sudden eagerness to his companions' faces. —That's an awfully good one that's going the rounds about Reuben J and the son. —About the boatman? Mr Power asked. —Yes. Isn't it awfully good? —What is that? Mr Dedalus asked. I didn't hear it. —There was a girl in the case, Mr Bloom began, and he determined to send him to the Isle of Man out of harm's way but when they were both ... —What? Mr Dedalus asked. That confirmed bloody hobbledehoy is it? —Yes, Mr Bloom said. They were both on the way to the boat and he tried to drown... —Drown Barabbas! Mr Dedalus cried. I wish to Christ he did!