A stifled sigh came from under Mr Power’s hand.

―O, he did, Martin Cunningham affirmed. Like a hero. A silver florin.

―Isn’t it awfully good? Mr Bloom said eagerly.

―One and eightpence too much, Mr Dedalus said drily.

Mr Power’s choked laugh burst quietly in the carriage.

Nelson’s pillar.

―Eight plums a penny! Eight for a penny!

―We had better look a little serious, Martin Cunningham said.