Nelson’s pillar.
―Eight plums a penny! Eight for a penny!
―We had better look a little serious, Martin Cunningham said.
Mr Dedalus sighed.
―Ah then indeed, he said, poor little Paddy wouldn’t grudge us a laugh. Many a good one he told himself.
―The Lord forgive me! Mr Power said, wiping his wet eyes with his fingers. Poor Paddy! I little thought a week ago when I saw him last and he was in his usual health that I’d be driving after him like this. He’s gone from us.
―As decent a little man as ever wore a hat, Mr Dedalus said. He went very suddenly.
―Breakdown, Martin Cunningham said. Heart.
He tapped his chest sadly.
Blazing face: redhot. Too much John Barleycorn. Cure for a red nose. Drink like the devil till it turns adelite. A lot of money he spent colouring it.
Mr Power gazed at the passing houses with rueful apprehension.
―He had a sudden death, poor fellow, he said.
―The best death, Mr Bloom said.
Their wide open eyes looked at him.
―No suffering, he said. A moment and all is over. Like dying in sleep.
No-one spoke.