f there. Quarter mourning. People in law
perhaps.

They went past the bleak pulpit of saint Mark's, under the railway
bridge, past the Queen's theatre: in silence. Hoardings: Eugene
Stratton, Mrs Bandmann Palmer. Could I go to see LEAH tonight, I wonder.
I said I. Or the _Lily of Killarney_? Elster Grimes Opera Company. Big
powerful change. Wet bright bills for next week. _Fun on the Bristol_.
Martin Cunningham could work a pass for the Gaiety. Have to stand a
drink or two. As broad as it's long.

He's coming in the afternoon. Her songs.

Plasto's. Sir Philip Crampton's memorial fountain bust. Who was he?

--How do you do? Martin Cunningham said, raising his palm to his brow in
salute.

--He doesn't see us, Mr Power said. Yes, he does. How do you do?

--Who? Mr Dedalus asked.

--Blazes Boylan, Mr Power said. There he is airing his quiff.

Just that moment I was thinking.

Mr Dedalus bent across to salute. From the door of the Red Bank the
white disc of a straw hat flashed reply: spruce figure: passed.

Mr Bloom reviewed the nails of his left hand, then those of his right
hand. The nails, yes. Is there anything more in him that they she sees?
Fascination. Worst man in Dublin. That keeps him alive. They sometimes
feel what a person is. Instinct. But a type like that. My nails. I
am just looking at them: well pared. And after: thinking alone. Body
getting a bit softy. I would notice that: from remembering. What causes
that? I suppose the skin can't contract quickly enough when the flesh
falls off. But the shape is there. The shape is there still. Shoulders.
Hips. Plump. Night of the dance dressing. Shift stuck between the cheeks
behind.

He clasped his hands between his knees and, satisfied, sent his vacant
glance over their faces.

Mr Power asked:

--How is the concert tour getting on, Bloom?

--O, very well, Mr Bloom said. I hear great accounts of it. It's a good
idea, you see...

--Are you going yourself?

--Well no, Mr Bloom said. In point of fact I have to go down to the
county Clare on some private business. You see the idea is to tour the
chief towns. What you lose on one you can make up on the other.

--Quite so, Martin Cunningham said. Mary Anderson is up there now.

Have you good artists?

--Louis Werner is touring her, Mr Bloom said. O yes, we'll have all
topnobbers. J. C. Doyle and John MacCormack I hope and. The best, in
fact.

--And _Madame_, Mr Power said smiling. Last but not leas