I wonner what'll hae ta'en her noo."
"Guid kens," replied Phemie, "but she's fair off her heid. Dae ye ken
she's just like a daft body. Did you see the look in her e'en?" and so
they discussed poor Mag, who had drawn their attention by the
strangeness of her behavior.
"Oh, dinna be feart, Leebie," began Mag as she saw Leebie's apprehensive
look. "I'm no' gaun to meddle wi' you, although I swore yesterday that I
would. You've only done what I did before you. You are young, an' mair
pleasin' than I am noo, an', as he said, I hae had a good innins. But,
Leebie, you'll hae to look for another fancy man. He'll no' be lang
yours. I'll see to that. Him an' me will gang oot thegither, if I can
manage it. We've baith been rotten, an' it's richt that we should gang
baith at once, an' rid the place o' a dam'd bad sore. Guid day, Leebie.
It's a dam'd puir life to leave, an' while it maybe is a woman's lot in
life to sell hersel' for ease and comfort, it's a' bad for her when she
does it in a way that the world says is a wrang way; for she soon finds
that her life isna worth a tinker's curse. She sells hersel' an' it's no
worth while complainin' if the bargain turns oot a rotten yin.
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