'Gin ye speir at Christ, he'll tak ye oot o' the verra mou' o' hell, wuman.'
'Christ! wha's that? Ow, ay! It's him 'at they preach aboot i' the kirks. Na, na. There's nae gude o' that. There's nae time to repent noo. I doobt sic repentance as mine wadna gang for muckle wi' the likes o' him.'
'The likes o' him 's no to be gotten. He cam to save the likes o' you an' me.'
'The likes o' you an' me! said ye, laddie? There's no like atween you and me. He'll hae naething to say to me, but gang to hell wi' ye for a bitch.'
'He never said sic a word in 's life. He wad say, “Poor thing! she was ill-used. Ye maunna sin ony mair. Come, and I'll help ye.” He wad say something like that. He'll save a body whan she wadna think it.'
'An' I hae gien my bonnie bairn to the deevil wi' my ain han's! She'll come to hell efter me to girn at me, an' set them on me wi' their reid het taings, and curse me. Och hone! och hone!'
'Hearken to me,' said Falconer, with as much authority as he could assume. But she rolled herself over again in the corner, and lay groaning.
'Tell me whaur she is,' said Falconer, 'and I'll tak her oot o' their grup, whaever they be.'
She sat up again, and stared at him for a few moments without speaking.
'I left her wi' a wuman waur nor mysel',' she said at length. 'God forgie me.'