The major dealt his forehead a slap as he spoke, which might be taken as
an indication that that was where his property was situated, and that it
consisted of his ignorance and impudence--very good trading capitals in
this world for, strange to say, the parties solely possessing such
qualifications get on much better than education, probity, and genius
can push forward their unhappy victims. Mrs. Lovett was silent for some
minutes, during which the major saluted her again. Then, suddenly
rising, she said--

"I will give you an answer to-morrow. Go away now. We shall be soon
interrupted. If I do consent to be yours, there will be something to do
before we leave England." "By Jove, only mention it to me, and it is as good as done. By-the-bye,
there is something to do before I leave here, and that is, my charmer,
to pay you for the pies." "Oh, no--no." "Yes, yes--my honour. Touch my honour, even in regard of a pie, and
touch my life.--I put two guineas in one end of my purse, to pay my
glover in the Strand, and at the other end are some small coins--where
the deuce--can--I--have--put--it." The major made an affectation of feeling in all his pockets for his lost
purse, and then, with a serio-comic look, he said--

"By Jove, some rascal has picked my pocket." "Never mind me," said Mrs. Lovett, "I don't want payment for the pies." "Well, but--the--the glover. Poor devil, and I promised him his money
this morning. For a soldier and a man of honour to break his word is
death. What shall I do?--Mrs. L., could you lend me a couple of guineas
until I have the happiness of seeing you again?" "Certainly, major, certainly I can." The gallant son of Mars pocketed the coins, and after saluting Mrs.
Lovett some half score of times--and she, the beast, liked it--he left
the shop and went chuckling into the Strand, where in a few minutes he
was in a pot-house, from whence he emerged not until he had liquidated
one of the guineas. Was Mrs. Lovett taken in by the major? Did she
believe his title, or his wealth, and his common honesty? Did she
believe in the story of the purse and of the two guineas that were to be
paid to the poor glover because he wanted them? No--no--certainly not. But for all that, she admired the major.--He was her _beau ideal_ of a
fine man! That was sufficient. Moreover, being what he was--a rogue,
cheat, and common swindler--she could exercise, so she thought, a
species of control over him which no decent man would put up with, and
so in her own mind she had determined to marry the major and fly; but as
she said--"There was a little something to be done first." Did that
relate to the disposal of Todd? We shall see. If she calculated upon the
major putting Sweeney Todd out of the way, she sadly miscalculated; but
the wisest heads will blunder. Compared to Todd, the major was indeed a
poor creature; but Mrs. Lovett, in the stern courage of her own
intellect, could not conceive the possibility of the great, puffy,
bloated, fierce Major Bounce being as arrant a coward as ever was
kicked. He was so, though, for all that. After he had left her, Mrs.
Lovett sat for a long time in a profound reverie, and as it happened
that no one came into the shop; the current of her evil thoughts was
uninterrupted. "I have sufficient," she said; "and before it gets too late, I will
leave this mode of life. Why did I--tempted by the fiend Todd--undertake
it, but that I might make wealth by it, and so assume a position that my
heart panted for. I will not delay until it is too late, or I may lose
the enjoyment that I have sacrificed so much to find the means of
getting. I live in this world but for the gratification of the senses,
and finding that I could not gratify them without abundant means, I fell
upon this plan. I--ah--that is he--"

Suddenly the swaggering companion, the redoubtable Major Bounce, rushed
past the shop-window, without so much as looking in for a single moment,
and made his way towards Carey Street. Mrs. Lovett started up and made
her way into the front shop. Major Bounce was out of sight, but from
Fleet Street came a poor, draggled, miserable looking woman, making vain
efforts at a speed which her weakness prevented her from keeping
up.--She called aloud--

"Stop! stop!--only a moment, Flukes! Only a moment, John. Stop!--stop!" Her strength failed her, and she fell exhausted upon Mrs. Lovett's
door-step. "Heartless!--heartless ever!" she cried. "May the judgment of the
Almighty reach him--may he suffer--yes--may he suffer only what I have
suffered." "Who and what are you?" said Mrs. Lovett. "Poor, and therefore everything that is abject and despicable in
London." "What a truth," said Mrs. Lovett. "What a truth that is. Who would not
do even as I do to avoid poverty in a widowed life!--It is too horrible. Amid savages it is nothing, but here it is indeed criminality of the
deepest dye. Whom did you call after, woman?" "My husband." "Husband. Describe him." "A sottish-looking man, with moustache. Once seen, he is not easily
mistaken--ruffian and villain are stamped by nature upon his face." Mrs. Lovett winced a little. "Come in," she said, "I will relieve you for the present. Come in." The woman by a great effort succeeded in rising and crossing the
threshold. Mrs. Lovett gave her a seat, and having presented her with a
glass of cordial and a pie, she waited until the poor creature should be
sufficiently recovered to speak composedly, and then she said to her
with perfect calmness, as though she was by no manner of means
personally interested in the matter--

"Now tell me--Is the man with moustache and the braided coat, who passed
hastily up Bell Yard a few moments only before you, really your
husband?" "Yes, madam, that is Flukes--"

"Who?" "Flukes, madam." "And pray who and what is Flukes?" "He was a tailor, and he might have been as respectable a man, and
earned as honest and good a living as any one in the trade, but a love
of idleness and dissipation undid him." "Flukes--a tailor?" "Yes, madam; and now that I am utterly destitute, and in want of the
common necessaries of life, if I chance to meet him in the streets and
ask him for the merest trifle to relieve my necessities, he flies from
me in the manner he has done to-day." "Indeed!" "Yes, madam. If we were in a lonely place he would strike me, so that I
should, from the injury he would do me, be unable to follow him, but
that in the public streets he dare-not do, for he fears some man would
interfere and put a stop to his cruelty." "There, my good woman," said Mrs. Lovett, "there are five shillings for
you. Go now, for I expect to be busy very shortly." With a profusion of thanks, that while they lasted were quite stunning,
poor Mrs. Flukes left the pie-shop and hobbled homewards. When she was
gone the colour went and came several times upon the face of Mrs.
Lovett, and then she repeated to herself--"Flukes--a tailor!" "Pies ready?" said a voice at the door. "Not quite."