But when you says, "no," and as you'd meet me here an' tell me why, I was content to wait an' come here; an' now what I want to know is--why?
what's to hinder, Jen ?' 'Ye knows as well as me the tales about me, Johnnie.' 'Tales!' said the young man passionately; 'what tales?
All along I've knocked down any man as 'ud say a word against you.' 'Ay, but the women, Johnnie; ye couldn't knock them down; that's why a woman's tale's allus the worst.' 'An' what can they say?
the worst is that if any man comes nigh you for a kiss or the like o' that--and no offence, Jen, but you're an uncommon tidy girl to kiss--he sees another man betwixt himself an' you.

Fools they be to believe such trash! If you'd give me the leave--which I'm not the fellow to take without you say the word--I'd soon show as no shadder 'ud come betwixt.' He came a step nearer, reproachful in his frank respect, as if he would claim the liberty he asked; but she drew back, holding up her hand to ward him off.
'I believe you half believe the nonsense yourself, Jen.' 'Heaven knows, Johnnie, I've reason to b'lieve it weel, none knows better ner me.

It's that I've comed to tell ye to-night; an' there's nowt fur it but we mun part.

An' if I trouble yer peace staying here i' the glen, I'll go away out o' yer sight.

It wasn't a wish o' mine to bring ye trouble.