"
"Verra weel, Thamas; I s' haud my tongue. What about the laddies?"
"They war fechtin' i' the verra street; ruggin' ane anither's heids,
an' peggin' at ane anither's noses, an' doin' their verra endeevour to
destroy the image o' the Almichty--it wasna muckle o' 't that was left
to blaud. I teuk and throosh them baith."
"An' what cam' o' the image o' the Almichty?" asked Tibbie, with a
grotesque contortion of her mouth, and a roll of her veiled eyeballs.
"I doobt, Thamas," she continued, "ye angert yersel' mair nor ye
quaietit them wi' the thrashin'. The wrath o' man, ye ken, Thamas,
worketh not the richtyisness o' God."
There was not a person in Glamerton who would have dared to speak thus
to Thomas Crann but Tibbie Dyster, perhaps because there was not one
who had such a respect for him. Possibly the darkness about her made
her bolder; but I think it was her truth, which is another word for
_love_, however unlike love the outcome may look, that made her able to
speak in this fashion.
Thomas was silent for a long minute. Then he said:
"Maybe ye're i' the richt, Tibbie. Ye aye anger me; but I wad raither
hae a body anger me wi' tellin' me the trowth, nor I wad hae a' the
fair words i' the dictionar'.
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