John thought over his plight and was distressed, and he spoke to God in Welsh: "Not fitting that you leave the daughter fach alone. Short in her leg you made her. There's a set-back. Her mother perished; and did I complain? An orphan will the pitiful wench be. Who will care for the shop? And the repairing workman? Steal the leather he will. A fuss will be about shop Richmond. Paid have I the rent for one year in advance. Serious will the loss be. Be not of two thinks. Send Lisha to breathe breathings into my inside--in the belly where the heart is. Forgive me that I go to the Capel English. Go there I do for the trade. Generous am I in the collections. Ask the preacher. Take some one else to sit in my chair in the Palace. Amen. Amen and amen." In his misery he sobbed, and he would not speak to Ann nor heed her questionings. At the cold of dawn he thought that Death was creeping down to him, and he screamed: "Allow me to live for a year--two years--and a grand communion set will I give to the Welsh capel in Shirland Road. Individual cups. Silver-plated, Sheffield make. Ann shall send quickly for the price-list." His fear was such that he would not suffer his beard to be combed, nor have his face covered by a bedsheet; and he would not stretch himself or turn his face upwards: in such a manner dead men lie. Again came Silas to provoke his brother to his death. "Richmond shops are letting like anything," he said. "The place is coming on," replied John. "I was lucky to get one in King's Row. She is cheap too." "What are you talking about? There's a new boot shop in King's Row already. Next door to the jeweler." "You are mistook. I have taken her." "Well, then, you are cheated. Get up at once and make a case. Wear an overcoat and ride in the bus." But John bade Ann go to Richmond and to say this and that to the owner of the house. Ann went and the house was empty. A third time Silas came out of Barnes, bringing with him gifts. These are the gifts that he offered his brother John: a tin of lobster, a tin of sardines, a tin of salmon, and a tin of herrings; and through each tin, in an unlikely place, he had driven the point of a gimlet. "Eat these," he said, "and good they will do you." "Much obliged," replied John. "I'll try a herring with bread and butter and vinegar to supper. Very much obliged. It was not my blame that we quarreled. Others had his eye on the agency." "Tish, I did not want the old Mermaid. You keep her. I got the sole agency for the Gwendoline." "How is Gwendolines going?" "More than I can do to keep ztok of her. Four dozen gents' laces and three dozen ladies' ditto on the twenty-fifth, and soon I order another four dozen ladies' buttons." John called Ann and to her he said: "How is Mermaid ztok?" "We are almost out of nine gents and four ladies," answered Ann. "Write Nuncle Silas the order and he'll drop her in the Zity. Pay your fare one way will I, Silas."