I'll get ye a cup o' fresh tea in a jiffy.'
Smiling faintly but kindly, Miss Tod greeted Macgregor, apologized
for disturbing him, and subsided into her old chair.
'Oh, I'm thenkfu' to be hame,' she sighed, while Christina flew to
her hospitable duties. 'Ye've got the room awfu' nice, dearie.'
'Does the smell o' the ceegarettes annoy ye?' inquired Macgregor,
now more at ease, though still ashamed of his recent panic.
'Na, na; it's jist deleecious,' she protested, 'efter the smell o'
the country.'
'Did ye no like the country, Miss Tod?'
'Maybe I could ha'e endured it till the week was up, if it hadna
been for ma auld frien'. Ye see, the puir body couldna speak or
think o' onything excep' airyplanes fleein' through the air an'
drappin' bombs on her dwellin' hoose an' her hen-hoose, no
forgettin' her pig-hoose. Mornin', noon an' nicht, she kep'
speirin' at me if I was prepared to meet ma Maker, maybe wantin' a
leg. Oh, I was rale vexed for her, I tell ye, but when she took
the mattress aff ma bed to protect her sewin' machine frae bombs, I
says to masel': 'If I've got to dee, I wud like to dae it as
comfortable as I can, an' I'm sure ma Maker'll no objec' to
that . . . an' so, at last, I jist tied up ma things in the broon paper,
an' said I had enjoyed masel' fine, but was anxious aboot the
shop--a terrible falsehood, dearie!--an' gaed to catch the sax
o'clock train, an' catched the yin afore it. . . . An' here I am.
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