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The woman burst into a great laugh, a hard, unmusical, but not unmirthful laugh. "Ay!" she said, "was that hoo the fowk wad hae't o' me?" "It wasna muckle won'er, efter ye cam wydin' throu' watter yairds deep, an' syne gaed doon the spate on a bran'er." "Weel, it was the maddest thing!" she returned, with another laugh which stopped abruptly. " I wadna dee the like again to save my life.
Having, last of all, split it open from end to end, turning it into something like an illegible heraldic crest, she approached the fire, the fowl in one hand, the gridiron in the other. "I doobt I maun get his lordship to sit a wee back frae the fire," she said. "I maun jist bran'er this chuckie for his supper." Lady Joan had taken Mrs.
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