"I don't want your money," I said, for I could not accept money from such a woman.
"I liked you from the first time I saw you, gin that I am a bad woman itself," she said, as if divining my thoughts. "And I dinna like to see you goin' out on the cauld roads with not a copper in your pockets. I'm auld enough to be your——"
Her cheeks gave the faintest suspicion of a blush, and she stopped speaking for just a second, leaving the last word, which no doubt she intended to speak, unuttered on her tongue.
"You can have half of my money if you want it, and if you like you can come with me tae Glesga, and I'll find you a bed and bite until you get a job."
"I'm not going to Glasgow," I said, for it was not in my heart to go into the one house with that woman. I could not explain my dislike for her company, but I preferred the cold night and the snow to the bed and bite which she promised me.
"Well, you can take the couple o' shillin's anyway," she persisted; "they'll do you no ill."
"I don't want your money," I said for the third time.
"'Twas earned decently, anyway," she said. "I canna see why you'll no take it. Will you bid me good-bye, Dermod?"
She put out her hand to me as she spoke, and I pressed it warmly, for in truth I was glad to get rid of her. Suddenly she reached forward and kissed me on the cheek; then hurried away, leaving me alone on the roadway. The woman's kiss disconcerted me, and I suddenly felt ashamed of my coldness towards her. She was kind-hearted and considerate, and I was a brute. I looked after her. When she would turn round I would call to her to stop, and I would go with her to Glasgow. The thought of spending the night homeless on the bleak road frightened me. She reached the corner of the road and went out of my sight without ever turning round. I looked at the two coppers which I possessed, and wondered why I hadn't taken the money which Gourock Ellen offered me. I also wondered why she had kissed me.