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Johnston, Mary, 1870-1936

"Foes"

Aye, and I
marked them ance in the little glen, and there they were lovers
surely--gin kisses and clasped arms mak lovers! She wad come by
herself to their trysting, and he wad come over the muir and down the
crag-side. It was na my business and I never thocht to tell. But eh!
all ill will out, says my mither!"


CHAPTER XVIII

The early sunlight fell soft and fine upon the river Seine and the
quays and buildings of Paris. The movement and buzz of people had, in
the brightness, something of the small ecstasy of bees emerging from
the hive with the winter pall just slipped. Distant bells were
ringing, hope enticed the grimmest poverty. Much, after all, might be
taken good-naturedly!
A great, ornate coach, belonging to a person of quality, crossed the
Seine from the south to the north bank. Three gentlemen, seated
within, observed each in his own fashion the soft, shining day. One
was Scots, one was English, and the owner of the coach, a Frenchman.
The first was Ian Rullock.
"Good weather for your crossing, monsieur!" remarked the person of
quality. He was so markedly of position that the two men whom he had
graciously offered to bring a mile upon their way, and who also were
younger men, answered with deference and followed in their speech only
the lines indicated.
"It promises fair, sir," said Ian.


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