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Updated: June 7, 2025
It was after the burial of the Red Laird that we returned to the Quay Inn in McKelvie's skiff, and this time we had McKelvie's lass and Ronny McKinnon with us. The Seagull was at anchor now over near Donal's Point, for McGilp had much business to attend to. Little skiffs had flitted in the night through the darkness of the bay.
"Ay," said Kate, "she came home like a lass that goes to her grave-claes instead o' her braws, and never a word from her, but a white hue round her lips and her eyes staring. . . . Did you go to my father's," said Kate, for she was of a jealous nature. "No, I was at McKelvie's for a wee after I would be with my mother, and I was thinking Dol Beag your father would be there too."
There were not many houses on the shore in these days, except maybe at a place they would be calling Clamperton, not very far from McKelvie's Inn.
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