Molly Bloom still lying in bed

—Yes, yes, Mr Bloom said after a dull sigh. Another gone.

—One of the best, M’Coy said.

The tram passed. They drove off towards the Loop Line bridge, her rich gloved hand on the steel grip. Flicker, flicker: the laceflare of her hat in the sun: flicker, flick.

—Wife well, I suppose? M’Coy’s changed voice said.

—O, yes, Mr Bloom said. Tiptop, thanks.

He unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read idly:

     What is home without
     Plumtree's Potted Meat?
     Incomplete.
     With it an abode of bliss.

—My missus has just got an engagement. At least it’s not settled yet.

Valise tack again. By the way no harm. I’m off that, thanks.

Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness.

—My wife too, he said. She’s going to sing at a swagger affair in the Ulster Hall, Belfast, on the twenty-fifth.

—That so? M’Coy said. Glad to hear that, old man. Who’s getting it up?

Mrs Marion Bloom. Not up yet. Queen was in her bedroom eating bread and. No book. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Dark lady and fair man. Letter. Cat furry black ball. Torn strip of envelope.

     Love's
     Old
     Sweet
     Song
     Comes lo-ove's old...

—It’s a kind of a tour, don’t you see, Mr Bloom said thoughtfully. Sweeeet song. There’s a committee formed. Part shares and part profits.

M’Coy nodded, picking at his moustache stubble.

—O, well, he said. That’s good news.

annotation: 

I wonder what McCoy’s thoughts are as he’s talking to Bloom and Bloom pulls out the paper and starts reading, although in my own dealings with people like him they are usually pretty oblivious to what is happening around them. This is in direct contrast to Bloom who notices everything including the gloves of the woman riding the Tram as it moves away from them. I looked up Plumtree’s Potted Meat and it was apparently a real product basically equivalent to spam ( description ).plumbtree's potted meat It does not strike me as the kind of product that would turn an incomplete house into an “abode of bliss”. I decided to draw Bloom’s vision of Molly still at home in bed. I like the thought of Bloom imagining her naked when he thinks about her lying there.