He handed the sheet silently over the dirty glass screen

The machines clanked in threefour time. Thump, thump, thurap. Now if he got paralysed there and no one knew how to stop them they'd clank on and on the same, print it over and over and up and back. Monkeydoodle the whole thing. Want a cool head.
-- Well, get it into the evening edition, councillor, Hynes said.
Soon be calling him my lord mayor. Long John is backing him they say.
The foreman, without answering, scribbled press on a corner of the sheet and made a sign to a typesetter. He handed the sheet silently over the dirty glass screen.
-- Right: thanks, Hynes said moving off.
Mr Bloom stood in his way.
-- If you want to draw the cashier is just going to lunch, he said, pointing backward with his thumb.
-- Did you? Hynes asked.
-- Mm, Mr Bloom said. Look sharp and you'll catch him.
-- Thanks, old man, Hynes said. I'll tap him too.
He hurried on eagerly towards the Freeman's Journal.
Three bob I lent him in Meagher's. Three weeks. Third hint.
We see the Canvasser at work
Mr Bloom laid his cutting on Mr Nannetti's desk.
-- Excuse me, councillor, he said. This ad, you see. Keyes, you remember.
Mr Nannetti considered the cutting a while and nodded.
-- He wants it in for July, Mr Bloom said.
He doesn't hear it. Nannan. Iron nerves.
The foreman moved his pencil towards it.