12/53 If I canna get love, I'll have respect, Mr.Weir. What have I done that ye should lightly me? "I thocht--I thocht--I thocht I was sae happy!" and the first sob broke from her like the paroxysm of some mortal sickness. He took the poor child in his arms, and she nestled to his breast as to a mother's, and clasped him in hands that were strong like vices. He felt her whole body shaken by the throes of distress, and had pity upon her beyond speech. |