"She micht think shame o' hersel', the shameless lump that she
is. She'd hae been faur better to hae keepit her mouth shut, Phemie."
"That's true, Annie," replied Phemie. "Listen to her. My, she's no'
canny an' she's fairly givin' him a bellyfu'. But they're a' yae swine's
pick an' no' yin o' them decent. I wadna be in her shoon for a' the
money that ever was made in Lowwood. She micht hae kent hoo it wad end.
Hark at her. My, but it's awfu'."
"Keep in, Annie," Phemie admonished as they both craned their necks to
look up the row as she saw Walker turning to face Mag. "Dinna let him
see you or your man will get the sack. My! but she's layin' it in tae'
him. What a tongue."
"Lord bless us! He's strucken her, Phemie," said Annie, clutching her
neighbor's shoulder as she spoke. "My, he's gaen her an awfu' blow on
the mouth an' knocket her doon. Come inside for as sure as daith it'll
end in a coort case, an' I'm no wanting to be mixed up in it," and they
went inside and shut the door, looking at each other with frightened
eyes. Then Annie, stealing to the window and lifting the curtain a
little at the side, gazed sideways up the row, reporting to Phemie
everything that happened.
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