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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Warlock o' Glenwarlock"

"
"He winna du that, Cosmo; he's ceevil eneuch."
"Ye sud hae seen sae rouch as he was to Grizzie!"
"Grizzie's some rouch hersel' whiles," remarked Aggie quietly.
"That's ower true," assented Cosmo; "but a man sud never behave
like that til a wuman."
"Say that to the man," rejoined Aggie. "The wuman can haud aff o'
hersel'."
"Grizzie, I grant ye,'s mair nor a match for ony man; but ye're no
sae lang i' the tongue, Aggie."
"Think ye a lang tongue 's a lass's safety, Cosmo? I wad awe nane
til 't! But what's ta'en ye the nicht,'at ye speyk to me sae? I ken
no occasion."
"Aggie, I wadna willinl'y say a word to vex ye," answered Cosmo;
"but I hae notit an h'ard 'at the best 'o wuman whiles tak
oonaccootable fancies to men no fit to haud a can'le to them."
Aggie turned her head aside.
"I wad ill like you, for instance, to be drawn to yon Crawford," he
went on. "It's eneuch to me 'at he's been lang the factotum o' an
ill man."
A slight convulsive movement passed across Aggie's face, leaving
behind it a shadow of hurtless resentment, yielding presently to a
curious smile.
"I micht mak a better man o' 'im," she said, and again looked away.
"They a' think that, I'm thinkin'!" returned Cosmo with a sad
bitterness. "An' sae they wull, to the warl's en'.--But, Aggie," he
added, after a pause, "ye ken ye're no to be oonaiqually yokit."
"That's what I hae to heed, I ken," murmured Aggie.


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