“Whisper will I now.  A drag is the wife.  Happy you are with the husband.”

“Why for you speak like that?”

“And for why we are not married?” Ben took Gwen in his arms and he kissed her and drew her body nigh to him; and in a little while he opened the door sharply and rebuked his wife that she waited thereat.

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.”