‘Don’t you think it’s pretty?’ laughed Ursula.

‘Oh, I do,’ said the young woman.

‘‘Ave a sit in it, you’ll wish you’d kept it,’ said the young man.

Ursula promptly sat down in the middle of the market-place.

‘Awfully comfortable,’ she said. ‘But rather hard. You try it.’ She invited the young man to a seat. But he turned uncouthly, awkwardly aside, glancing up at her with quick bright eyes, oddly suggestive, like a quick, live rat.

‘Don’t spoil him,’ said the young woman. ‘He’s not used to arm-chairs, ‘e isn’t.