I think I have found a suitable husband. He's one of my cobblers and a good steady worker. I admit he's almost my age and doesn't have much hair, but he'll be a good provider. Marcia stamps her foot and threatens to run away. I think she has her eye on a handsome young soldier who comes in once a week to have his shoes repaired. But I don't want my daughter to be what they call an 'army wife'. Also, instead of paying bald Festus a dowry, I can make him a partner in my business.