'D'ye like hot pies?' he inquired, rising and stretching himself.


An hour later, in the picture house a heartrending, soul thrilling
melodrama was at its last gasp. The long suffering heroine was in
the arms of the long misjudged, misfortune-ridden, but ever
faithful hero.

'Oh, lovely!' murmured Maggie.

Macgregor said nothing, but his eyes were moist. He may, or may
not, have been conscious of a plump, warm, thinly-clad shoulder
close against his arm.

Hero and heroine vanished. The lights went up. Macgregor blew his
nose, then looked past the fat girl to make a scoffing remark to
Willie.

But Willie's seat was vacant.

* * * * *

Maggie laid her ungloved hand on the adjoining seat. 'It's warm,'
she informed Macgregor. 'He canna be lang awa'.'

'Did he no say he was comin' back?' Macgregor asked rather
irritably.

'He never said a word to me. I didna notice him gang: I was that
ta'en up wi' the picturs. But never heed,' she went on cheerfully;