She had pinned a grey shawl about her shoulders, and wore a black mutch over her dangling grey curls.
"It's you, Tibbie," I heard Jess say, as the door opened.
Tibbie did not knock, not considering herself grand enough for ceremony, and indeed Jess would have resented her knocking.

On the other hand, when Leeby visited Tibbie, she knocked as politely as if she were collecting for the precentor's present.

All this showed that we were superior socially to Tibbie.
"Ay, hoo are ye, Jess ?" Tibbie said.
"Muckle aboot it," answered Jess; "juist aff an' on; ay, an' hoo hae ye been yersel ?" "Ou," said Tibbie.
I wish I could write "ou" as Tibbie said it.

With her it was usually a sentence in itself.

Sometimes it was a mere bark, again it expressed indignation, surprise, rapture; it might be a check upon emotion or a way of leading up to it, and often it lasted for half a minute.