But I ken it's richt.
Ye're the only ane that has my secret. Keep it, Curly."
"Like Deith himsel'," said Curly. "Ye _are_ a braw lass."
"Ye maunna think ill o' me, Curly. I hae tell't ye the trowth."
"Jist lat me kiss yer bonnie han' and I'll gang content."
Wisely done or not, it was truth and tenderness that made her offer her
lips instead. He turned in silence, comforted for the time, though the
comfort would evaporate long before the trouble would sink.
"Curly!" cried Annie, and he came back.
"I think that's young Robert Bruce been to Clippenstrae to speir efter
me. Dinna lat him come farther. He's an unceevil fallow."
"Gin he wins by me, he maun hae mair feathers nor I hae," said Curly,
and walked on.
Annie followed slowly. When she saw the men meet she sat down.
Curly spoke first, as he came up.
"A fine day, Robbie," he said.
Bruce made no reply, for relations had altered since school-days. It
was an evil moment however in which to carry a high chin to Willie
Macwha, who was out of temper with the whole world except Annie
Anderson. He strode up to the _colliginer_.
"I said it was a fine day," he repeated.
"Well, I said nothing to the contrary," answered Bruce, putting on his
English.
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