fellow. Give the devil his due. O, Bloom has his good points.

But there’s one thing he’ll never do.

His hand scrawled a dry pen signature beside his grog.

I know, Davy Byrne said.

Nothing in black and white, Nosey Flynn said.

Paddy Leonard and Bantam Lyons came in. Tom Rochford followed frowning, a plaining hand on his claret waistcoat.

Day, Mr Byrne.

Day, gentlemen.

They paused at the counter.

Who’s standing? Paddy Leonard asked.

I’m sitting anyhow, Nosey Flynn answered.