Catching sight of Macgregor, she giggled. It was not an unpleasing
giggle. Lean girls cannot produce it.

'This is Private Macgreegor Robi'son,' said Willie, unabashed.

She smiled and held out her hand. After a moment she said to
Willie: 'Are ye no gaun to tell him ma name, stupid?'

'I forget it, except the Maggie.'

'Aweel,' she said good-humouredly, 'Private Robi'son'll jist ha'e
to content hissel' wi' that, though it's a terrible common name.'
She did the giggle again.

The chance of crossing came, and they all moved over; on the
crowded pavement it was impossible to proceed three abreast.

'Never mind me,' said Willie humorously.

'Wha's mindin' you?' she retorted.

'Gettin' hame?' said Macgregor with an effort at politeness, while
fuming inwardly.

'Jist that. Awfu' warm weather, is't no? It was fair meltin' in
the warehoose the day. I'm fair dished up.' She heaved a sigh,
which was no more unpleasing than her giggle. 'It's killin'
weather for you sojer lads,' she added kindly.

Macgregor experienced a wavelet of sympathy. 'Wud ye like a