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"Gien a body comes to oor meetin'," cried one of them, a fine specimen of the argle bargling Scotchman a creature known and detested over the habitable globe "he maun just du as we du, an' sit it oot. It's for yer sowl's guid."
Never fear, little Anita." "With you to lead us, I'm sure we will." A man entered the cubby. Potan looked frowningly around. "What is it, Argle?" The fellow answered in Martian, leered at Anita and withdrew. Potan stood up. I noticed that he was unsteady with the drink. "They want me with the work at the projectors." "Go ahead," I said. He nodded. We were comrades now. "Amuse yourself, Haljan.
I'm no denyin' a word 'at Johnny Bykes says. I never hard the cratur ca'd a leear. He's but a cantankerous argle barglous body no fit to be a gatekeeper 'cep it was up upo' the Binn side, whaur 'maist naebody gangs oot or in. He wad maybe be safter hertit till a fellow cratur syne." "Would you have him let in all the tramps in the country?" said the marquis.
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