Jimmy considered while he stuffed tobacco from a can into his pipe. He lit the pipe with several matches from his vest pocket and considered some more. “I don’t mind, Ralph,” he said. “But if she goes first the Judge’ll get a good laugh and then he’ll throw the book at her.”

“What the hell, Jimmy?” said Ralph. He glanced over at the whore, who was eyeing them hatefully. “Look, buddy,” he went on, “you know who that is? Fatso Philomena Brown. She’s up here almost every month. Old Bloom knows her. I tell you, she’s good for a laugh. That’s all. Besides, she’s married to a nigger anyway.”

“Well,” said Jimmy. “So far she ain’t done herself much good with me. She’s a real smarty. She thinks I’m a Jew.”

“There you go,” said Ralph. “Come on, Jimmy. I ain’t got much time before the Clerk calls my kid up. What you say?”

Jimmy looked over at his client, the many pounds of her rolled in great logs of meat under her knees and around her belly. She was still sneering. “O.K.” He turned his head back to Ralph. “O.K., I’ll do it.”

“Now look,” said Ralph, “this is how we’ll do. When they call me up I’ll tell the Clerk I need more time with my kid for consultation. And since you follow me on the docket you’ll get on pretty soon, at least before I will. Then after everybody’s had a good laugh, I’ll bring my I-talian on.”

“Isn’t she Italian?” asked Jimmy, indicating the whore with a slight movement of his pipe.

“Yeah. But she’s married to a nigger.”

“O.K.,” said Jimmy, “we’ll do it.”

“What’s that?” said the whore, who had been trying to listen all this time. “What are you two kikes whispering about anyway? What the hell’s going on?”

“Shut up,” said Jimmy, the stem of his pipe clamped far back in his mouth so that he could not say it as loud as he wanted. Ralph winked at him and left the room. “Now listen,” he said to Philomena Brown, getting up from his desk and walking over to where she still sat against the wall. “If you got a story, you better tell me quick because we’re going out there soon and I want you to know I ain’t telling no lies for you.”

“I don’t want you on my case anyway, kike,” said Philomena Brown.

“It ain’t what you want. It’s what the old man out there says you gotta do. Now if you got a story let’s have it now.”

“I’m a file clerk. I was just looking for work.”

“Like hell! Don’t give me that shit. When was the last time you had your shots?”

“I ain’t never had none,” said Mrs. Brown.