"Nae doot. Hoo muckle do ye want?"
"Wad ye think five shillins ower muckle?"
"'Deed wad I."
"Weel, we'll say three than�-to you, sir."
"I winna gie ye mair nor half-a-croon."
"Hoot, sir! It's ower little."
"Well, I'll look further," said Mr Cupples, putting on English, and moving to the door.
"Na, sir; ye'll do nae sic thing. Do ye think I wad lat the leebrarian o' my son's college gang oot at my door this time o' nicht, to luik for a bed till himsel'? Ye s' jist hae't at yer ain price, and welcome. Ye'll hae yer tay and sugar and bitties o' cheese frae me, ye ken?"
"Of course�-of course. And if you could get me some tea at once, I should be obliged to you."
"Mother," cried Bruce through the house-door, and held a momentary whispering with the partner of his throne.