'What? No worth while? Oh, hoo can ye say a thing like
that! . . . But maybe I best tell ye ma ain story first.'
'Many thanks. But I'm afraid I'm not deeply interested in any
story of yours.' She was almost sorry the next moment. It was just
as if she had struck him.
Presently he recovered a little. 'Christina,' he said quietly,
'that's no true.'
'Hoo daur ye!' she cried, forgetting her 'fine English' as well as
her haughty pose.
'If it was true, it wud mean that ye've been judgin' me unfair,
kennin' it was unfair, an' I'll never believe ye wud dae
that. . . . So, Christina dear, listen to me an' gi'e me a chance.'
'Oh, what's the use,' she sighed with sudden weariness, 'what's the
use o' pretendin', Macgreegor?'
'Wha's pretendin'?'
'You! What's the use o' pretendin' ye're hurt? Fine ye ken I'm no
the--the only girl in the world.'
'There's no anither like ye!'
'Weel,' she said drily, 'that means variety, does it no?' She drew
a long breath and moved back from the counter. 'I want to be as
fair as I can, so perhaps I'd best ask ye a straight question.'
'Ask it!' he said eagerly.
'Wha's Maggie?'
He was taken aback, but less so than she had expected, and possibly
that increased her bitterness.
'She's a girl,' he began.
'I could ha'e guessed that much. What sort o' girl?' she demanded,
and wished she had held her tongue.
'She--she's kin' o' fat----'
'Fat!' Christina uttered the word with as much disgust as she
would have evinced had she been handed a pound of streaky bacon
without the paper.
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