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The Guinea Stamp - A Tale of Modern Glasgow by Annie S. (Annie Shepherd) Swan
page 66 of 418 (15%)
such remarks with the most profound contempt, ignoring them entirely.
'D'ye think Skinny'll let me in?'

'I daresay,' answered Walter abruptly, and, sitting down on the
window-box, he looked through the blindless window upon the masses of
roofs and the twinkling lights of the great city. His heart was heavy,
his soul sick within him. His home--so poor a home for him, and for all
who called it by that sweet name--had never appeared a more miserable
and homeless place. It was not the smallness nor the poverty of its
furnishing which concerned him, but the human beings it sheltered, who
lay a burden upon his heart. Liz was out of bed, crouching over the
fire, with an old red shawl wrapped round her--a striking-looking figure
in spite of her general _deshabille_, a girl at whom all men and many
women would look twice. He wished she were less striking, that her
appearance had matched the only destiny she could look for--grey,
meagre, commonplace, hopeless as a dull November day.

'Your pecker's no' up, Wat?' she said, looking at him rather keenly.
'What are ye sae doon i' the mooth for?'

Walter made no reply. Truth to tell, he would have found it difficult to
give expression to his thoughts.

'He's aye doon i' the mooth when he comes here, Liz,' said the mother,
with a passing touch of spirit. 'We're ower puir folk for my lord noo
that he's gettin' among the gentry.'

'The gentry of Argyle Street an' the Sautmarket, mother?' asked Walter
dryly. 'They'll no' do much for ye.'

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