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"There was never an outer door snecked since you left, Colin," said he, turning awkwardly away and looking hard into the loof of his hand like a wife spaeing fortunes for sheer want, I could see, of some engagement for his eyes. "I could never get away with the notion that some way like this at night would ye come back to Elngmore." "Mother would miss me?"
I dressed myself up in the morning with scrupulous care, put my hair in a queue, shaved cheek and chin, and put at my shoulder the old heirloom brooch of the house, which, with some other property, the invaders had not found below the bruach where we had hid it on the day we had left Elngmore to their mercy.
"She did, Colin, she did; I'm not denying." "She'll be bedded long syne, no doubt, father?" My father looked at me and gulped at the throat. "Bedded indeed, poor Colin," said he, "this very day in the clods of Kilmalieu!" And that was my melancholy home-coming to my father's house of Elngmore, in the parish of Glcnaora, in the shire of Argile.
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