"Why, yez," answered the soldier.
"Drat the old animal," cried the clothier. "Too much care you give her, Kate. Seven looks has the deacon from Capel King's Cross had of her and he hasn't bought her yet."
As he spoke the clothier heaped garments on the counter.
"Put out your arms," he ordered Kate, "and take the suits to a room for Llew to try on."
Kate obeyed, and Llew hymning "Moriah" took her round the waist and embraced her, and the woman, hungering for love, gladly gave herself up. Soon attired in a black frock coat, a black waistcoat, and black trousers, Llew stepped into the shop.
"A champion is the rabbit," he said; "and very tame."
"If meat doesn't come down," said the clothier, "in the belly she'll be as well."
"Let me know before you slay her. Perhaps I buy her. I will study her again."
The clothier gazed upon Llew. "Tidy fit," he said.
"A bargain you give me."