Random Quote
"Time is just something that we assign. You know, past, present, it's just all arbitrary. Most Native Americans, they don't think of time as linear; in time, out of time, I never have enough time, circular time, the Stevens wheel. All moments are happening all the time."
Follow us on Twitter
Never miss a good book again! Follow Read Print on Twitter
Chapter 17
-
Recommend to friends -
Rate it:
Margaret having heard the doctor say that one may catch cold in
the back, had decided instantly to line Gavin's waistcoat with
flannel. She was thus engaged, with pins in her mouth and the
scissors hiding from her every time she wanted them, when Jean,
red and flurried, abruptly entered the room.
"There! I forgot to knock at the door again," Jean exclaimed,
pausing contritely.
"Never mind. Is it Rob Dow wanting the minister?" asked Margaret,
who had seen Rob pass the manse dyke.
"Na, he wasna wanting to see the minister."
"Ah, then, he came to see you, Jean," said Margaret, archly.
"A widow man!" cried Jean, tossing her head. "But Rob Dow was in
no condition to be friendly wi' onybody the now."
"Jean, you don't mean that he has been drinking again?"
"I canna say he was drunk."
"Then what condition was he in?"
"He was in a--a swearing condition," Jean answered, guardedly.
"But what I want to speir at you is, can I gang down to the
Tenements for a minute? I'll run there and back."
"Certainly you can go, Jean, but you must not run. You are always
running. Did Dow bring you word that you were wanted in the
Tenements?"
"No exactly, but I--I want to consult Tammas Haggart about--about
something."
"About Dow, I believe, Jean?"
"Na, but about something he has done. Oh, ma'am, you surely dinna
think I would take a widow man?"
It was the day after Gavin's meeting with the Egyptian at the
Kaims, and here is Jean's real reason for wishing to consult
Haggart. Half an hour before she hurried to the parlour she had
been at the kitchen door wondering whether she should spread out
her washing in the garret or risk hanging it in the courtyard. She
had just decided on the garret when she saw Rob Dow morosely
regarding her from the gateway.
"Whaur is he?" growled Rob.
"He's out, but it's no for me to say whaur he is," replied Jean,
whose weakness was to be considered a church official. "No that I
ken," truthfulness compelled her to add, for she had an ambition
to be everything she thought Gavin would like a woman to be.
Rob seized her wrists viciously and glowered into her face.
"You're ane o' them," he said.
"Let me go. Ane o' what?"
"Ane o' thae limmers called women."
"Sal," retorted Jean with spirit, "you're ane o' thae brutes
called men. You're drunk, Rob Dow."
"In the legs maybe,
Do you like this chapter?
If you're writing a James M. Barrie essay and need some advice,
post your James M. Barrie essay question on our
Facebook page where fellow bookworms are always glad to help!
