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My bonnie dooie! Gude-nicht, my ain scentit geranum," says Jeems. I began to be akinda waumish, d'ye ken. The haivers o' the two spooney craturs juist garred me feel like's I'd taen a fizzy drink or something. You ken what I mean the kind o' a' ower kittlie feelin' that's like to garr you screech, ye dinna ken hoo. "Gude-nicht, Jeems," says Beek again. "I'll never luve onybody but you."
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