But it's a garret-room, and maybe???-"
"Then I'll hae't, whatever it be, gin ye dinna want ower muckle for't."
"Weel, ye see, sir, your college is a great expense to heumble fowk
like oorsels, and we hae to mak it up the best way that we can."
"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.
"So your name's Bruce, is it?" resumed Cupples, as the other returned
to the counter.
"Robert Bruce, sir, at your service.
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