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Welsh, James C.

"The Underworld The Story of Robert Sinclair, Miner"

You wad
think she never had heard o' Willie Broonclod, the packman, that she
sloped when she left doon the country. Nae wonder she has braw claes to
glaik aboot in; for they were gey easy paid. The dirty glaiket limmer
that she is. I wonder she disna think shame o' hersel'."
"What the hell's a' this to me?" asked Walker abruptly breaking in upon
her tirade.
"I suppose it'll no' mean onything to you," she returned. "But I just
wanted to tell you, that you're no her first, for Willie Broonclod gaed
to her lang afore she cam' here, an' she's left him wi' a guid penny
that he'll never get. But her man's a contractor noo, makin' big money,
an' Jock Walker ca's in to see her whenever he's needfu' an' there's
naething sae low as a packman noo for her. The brazen-faced stuck-up
baggage that she is. Does she think I dinna ken her? Her, with her hair
stuck up in a 'bun' an' her fancy blouses an' buckled shoon, an' a'!"
Mag was now very much enraged and she shouted and swore in her anger.
"Ach, gang to hell," he said with brutal callousness. "You're no' hauf a
woman like Leebie. She's a tippy wee lass, an' has a way wi' her. She
has some spirit, an' is aye snod and nate," and there was a tantalizing
smile about his lips that was plainly meant to irritate Mag.


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