“I canna tell ye where he is now, but ye'd aiblins care to hear o' when I saw him last.” He turned his chair the better to address her.
“Twas like so: I was sittin' in this vairy chair it was, asleep, when he crep' up behind an' lep' on ma back. I knew naethin' o't till I found masel' on the floor an' him kneelin' on me. I saw by the look on him he was set on finishin' me, so I said—”
The girl waved her hand at him, superbly disdainful.
“Yo' ken yo're lyin', ivery word o't,” she cried.
The little man hitched his trousers, crossed his legs, and yawned.
“An honest lee for an honest purpose is a matter ony man may be proud of, as you'll ken by the time you're my years, ma lass.”
The girl slowly crossed the room. At the door she turned.
“Then ye'll no tell me wheer he is?” she asked with a heart-breaking trill in her voice.
“On ma word, lass, I dinna ken,” he cried, half passionately.
“On your word, Mr. M'Adam” she said with a quiet scorn in her voice that might have stung Iscariot.