But again Mysie did not answer. She only hung her head and did not look
up with any interest in his news.
"It's aboot time I was in the pit now, ye ken. You used to get doon the
pit at ten. My faither was in it when he was nine, but you're no'
allowed to gang doon now till you are twelve year auld. I'm going to
draw aff my faither and John," and he was feeling more and more
exasperated at her continued silence.
Yet still Mysie did not speak, and merely nodded to this further
enlightenment.
"I've never telt onybody except yoursel'," he said, hurt at her seeming
want of interest, and feeling that what he was going to say was less
manly than he intended it to be. Indeed he was aware that it was
decidedly childish of him to say it, but, like many wiser and older, he
could not keep his dignity, and took pleasure in hurting her; for there
is a pleasure sometimes in hurting a loved one, because they are loved,
and will not speak the things one wants them to say, which if said might
add to one's vanity and sense of importance. "So ye'll just be by
yoursel' the morn, unless they put Dicky Tamson owre aside you," he
added viciously.
"I dinna want Dicky Tamson aside me," she said with some heat, and a
hint of anxiety in her voice, which pleased him a little.
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