“Not in the least,” said Butler.
“Madge, my bonny woman,” said Sharpitlaw, in the same coaxing manner, “what did ye do wi’ your ilka-day’s claise yesterday?”
“I dinna mind,” said Madge.
“Where was ye yesterday at e’en, Madge?”
“I dinna mind ony thing about yesterday,” answered Madge; “ae day is eneugh for ony body to wun ower wi’ at a time, and ower muckle sometimes.”
“But maybe, Madge, ye wad mind something about it, if I was to gie ye this half-crown?” said Sharpitlaw, taking out the piece of money.
“That might gar me laugh, but it couldna gar me mind.”
“But, Madge,” continued Sharpitlaw, “were I to send you to the workhouse in Leith Wynd, and gar Jock Daigleish lay the tawse on your back—”
“That wad gar me greet,” said Madge, sobbing, “but it couldna gar me mind, ye ken.”
“She is ower far past reasonable folks’ motives, sir,” said Ratcliffe, “to mind siller, or John Daigleish, or the cat-and-nine-tails either; but I think I could gar her tell us something.”