"Just what I said," returned Andrew with quiet firmness. "I'll take that
collection the morn, some way or another, if I should be damned for it.
Does he mean to say that we can let folk starve?" He lifted his pick and
began to hew the coal with an energy that told of the passion raging
within him.
"Does he mean to think I'm goin' to see decent folk starve afore my
e'en?" he asked after a while, pausing to wipe the sweat from his eyes.
"No' damned likely! Things ha'e come to a fine pass when folk are
compelled to look at other folk starvin' an' no' gi'e them a crust."
"Do ye think there's onything in what he said about them bein'
weel-aff?" asked Peter cautiously, while his big eye tried to wink.
"Nellie is a wee bit inclined to be prood an' independent, ye ken, an'
disna say muckle about her affairs. An forby we don't ken very muckle
about her; she's an incomer to the place, and she might ha'e been
weel-aff afore she married Geordie, for aught we ken."
"It disna matter," replied Andrew, "I dinna care though
they had thousan's. What I don't like is this
'ye'll-no'-do-this-an'-ye'll-no'-do-that' sort o' thing. What the hell
right has ony gaffer wi' what a man does? It's a' one to him what I do.
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