―Swindling the peasants, says the citizen, and the poor of Ireland. We want no more strangers in our house.

―O I’m sure that will be all right, Hynes, says Bloom. It’s just that Keyes you see.

―Consider that done, says Joe.

―Very kind of you, says Bloom.

―The strangers, says the citizen. Our own fault. We let them come in. We brought them. The adulteress and her paramour brought the Saxon robbers here.

―Decree nisi , says J. J.

And Bloom letting on to be awfully deeply interested in nothing, a spider’s web in the corner behind the barrel, and the citizen scowling after him and the old dog at his feet looking up to know who to bite and when.