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Chapter 8

me, Mrs Breen said, I hope it wasn’t any near relation.

May as well get her sympathy.

―Dignam, Mr Bloom said. An old friend of mine. He died quite suddenly, poor fellow. Heart trouble, I believe. Funeral was this morning.

Your funeral’s tomorrow While you’re coming through the rye. Diddlediddle dumdum Diddlediddle⁠ ⁠…

―Sad to lose the old friends, Mrs Breen’s womaneyes said melancholily.

Now that’s quite enough about that.

Just quietly: husband.

―And your lord and master?

Mrs Breen turned up her two large eyes. Hasn’t lost them anyhow.

―O, don’t be talking, she said. He’s a caution to rattlesnakes. He’s in there now with his lawbooks finding

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