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Daily did Gwen praise and laud Ben to her husband. “There is no one in the world like him,” she said. “He will get very far.”

“Bring Mistar Lloyd to Windsor for me to know him quite well,” said Enoch.

“I will ask him,” Gwen replied without faltering.

“Benefit myself I will.”

Early every Thursday afternoon Ben arrived at Windsor, and at the coming home from his shop of Enoch, Ben always said: “Messes Enos-Harries has been singing the piano. Like the trilling of God’s feathered choir is her music.”

Though Ben and Gwen were left at peace they could not satisfy nor crush their lust.

Before three years were over, Ben had obtained great fame. “He ought to be in Parliament and give up preaching entirely,” some said; and Enoch and Gwen were partakers of his glory.

Then Gwen told him that she had conceived, whereof Ben counseled her to go into her husband’s bed.

“That I have not the stomach to do,” the woman complained.

“As you say, dear heart,” said Ben. “Cancer has the wife. Perish soon she must. Ease our path and lie with your lout.”

Presently Gwen bore a child; and Enoch her husband looked at it and said: “Going up is Ben Lloyd. Solid am I as the counter.”

Gwen related her fears to Ben, who contrived to make Enoch a member of the London County Council. Enoch rejoiced: summoning the congregation of Thornton Vale to be witnesses of his gift of a Bible cushion to the chapel.

As joy came to him, so grief fell upon his wife. “After all,” Ben wrote to her, “you belong to him. You have been joined together in the holiest and sacredest matrimony. Monumental responsibilities have been thrust on me by my people. I did not seek for them, but it is my duty to bear them. Pray that I shall use God’s hoe with understanding and wisdom. There is a talk of putting me up for Parliament. Others will have a chanse of electing a real religious man. I must not be tempted by you again. Well, good-by, Gwen, may He keep you unspotted from the world. Ships that pass in the night.”

Enoch was plagued, and he followed Ben to chapel meetings, eisteddfodau, Cymrodorion and St. David’s Day gatherings, always speaking in this fashion: “Cast under is the girl fach you do not visit her. Improved has her singing.”

Because Ben was careless of his call, his wrath heated and he said to him: “Growing is the baban.”

“How’s trade?” Ben remarked. “Do you estimate for Government contracts?”

“Not thought have I.”

“Just hinted. A word I can put in.”

“Red is the head of the baban.”

“Two black heads make red,” observed Ben.

“And his name is Benjamin.”

“As you speak. Farewell for to-day. How would you like to put up for a Welsh constituency?”

“Not deserving am I of anything. Happy would I and the wife be to see you in the House.”

But Ben’s promise was fruitless; and Enoch bewailed: “A serpent flew into my house.”

He ordered Gwen to go to Ben.

“Recall to him this and that,” he said. “A very good advert an M.P. would be for the business. Be you dressed like a lady. Take a fur coat on appro from the shop.”

Often thereafter he bade his wife to take such a message. But Gwen had overcome her distress and she strew abroad her charms; for no man could now suffice her. So she always departed to one of her lovers and came back with fables on her tongue.

“What can you expect of the Welsh?” cried Enoch in his wrath. “He hasn’t paid for the goods he got on tick from the shop. County court him will I. He ate my food. The unrighteous ate the food of the righteous. And he was bad with you. Did I not watch? No good is the assistant that lets the customer go away with not a much obliged.”

The portion of the Bible that Enoch read that night was this: “I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt…. Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning: let us solace ourselves with love. For the goodman is not at home, he is gone on a long journey. He hath–“

“That’s lovely,” said Gwen.

“Tapestry from my shop,” Enoch expounded. “And Irish linen. And busy was the draper in Kingsend.”

Gwen pretended to be asleep.

“He is the father. That will learn him to keep his promise. The wicked man!”

Unknown to her husband Gwen stood before Ben; and at the sight of her Ben longed to wanton with her. Gwen stretched out her arms to be clear of him and to speak to him; her speech was stopped with kisses and her breasts swelled out. Again she found pleasure in Ben’s strength.

Then she spoke of her husband’s hatred.

“Like a Welshman every spit he is,” said Ben. “And a black.”

But his naughtiness oppressed him for many days and he intrigued; and it came to pass that Enoch was asked to contest a Welsh constituency, and Enoch immediately let fall his anger for Ben.

“Celebrate this we shall with a reception in the Town Hall,” he announced. “You, Gwen fach, will wear the chikest Paris model we can find. Ben’s kindness is more than I expected. Much that I have I owe to him.”

“Even your son,” said Gwen.