The clay fell softer. Begin to be forgotten. Out of sight, out of mind.The caretaker moved away a few paces and put on his hat. Had enough ofit. The mourners took heart of grace, one by one, covering themselveswithout show. Mr Bloom put on his hat and saw the portly figure makeits way deftly through the maze of graves. Quietly, sure of his ground,he traversed the dismal fields.Hynes jotting down something in his notebook. Ah, the names. But heknows them all. No: coming to me.I am just taking the names, Hynes said below his breath. What is your�christian name? Im not sure.�L, Mr Bloom said. Leopold. And you might put down MCoys name too. He���asked me to.Charley, Hynes said writing. I know. He was on the _Freeman_ once.�So he was before he got the job in the morgue under Louis Byrne. Goodidea a postmortem for doctors. Find out what they imagine they know. Hedied of a Tuesday. Got the run. Levanted with the cash of a few ads.Charley, youre my darling. That was why he asked me to. O well, does�no harm. I saw to that, MCoy. Thanks, old chap: much obliged. Leave�him under an obligation: costs nothing.And tell us, Hynes said, do you know that fellow in the, fellow was�over there in the...He looked around.Macintosh. Yes, I saw him, Mr Bloom said. Where is he now?�MIntosh, Hynes said scribbling. I dont know who he is. Is that his� ��name?He moved away, looking about him.No, Mr Bloom began, turning and stopping. I say, Hynes!�Didnt hear. What? Where has he disappeared to? Not a sign. Well of all�the. Has anybody here seen? Kay ee double ell. Become invisible. GoodLord, what became of him?A seventh gravedigger came beside Mr Bloom to take up an idle spade.O, excuse me!�He stepped aside nimbly.Clay, brown, damp, began to be seen in the hole. It rose. Nearly over.A mound of damp clods rose more, rose, and the gravediggers restedtheir spades. All uncovered again for a few instants. The boy proppedhis wreath against a corner: the brother-in-law his on a lump. Thegravediggers put on their caps and carried their earthy spades towardsthe barrow. Then knocked the blades lightly on the turf: clean. Onebent to pluck from the haft a long tuft of grass. One, leaving hismates, walked slowly on with shouldered weapon, its blade blueglancing.
Silently at the gravehead another coiled the coffinband. His navelcord.The brother-in-law, turning away, placed something in his free hand.Thanks in silence. Sorry, sir: trouble. Headshake. I know that. Foryourselves just.