"Go on, Sandy--this is fun! Dyceworthy's amours
must be amusing. I suppose he's after that ugly wooden block of a woman
we saw at his house who is so zealous for the 'true gospel'?"
"Not a bit of it," replied Sandy, with immense gravity. "The auld
Silenus has better taste. He says there's a young lass running after
him, fit to break her heart aboot him,--puir thing, she must have vera
little choice o' men! He hasna quite made up his mind, though he admeets
she's as fine a lass as ony man need require. He's sorely afraid she has
set herself to catch him, as he says she's an eye like a warlock for a
really strong good-looking fellow like himself," and Macfarlane chuckled
audibly. "Maybe he'll take pity on her, maybe he wont; the misguided
lassie will be sairly teazed by him from a' he tauld us in his cups. He
gave us her name,--the oddest in a' the warld for sure,--I canna just
remember it."
"I can," said Duprez glibly. "It struck me as quaint and pretty--Thelma
Gueldmar."
Errington started so violently, and flushed so deeply, that Lorimer was
afraid of some rash outbreak of wrath on his part.
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