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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"


"I will have lied to all of them," she replied. "I will have told
them all that I had plenty. I told HER too. I could not be
lowering James More to them."
I found out later on that she must have lowered him in the very
dust, for the lie was originally the father's, not the daughter's,
and she thus obliged to persevere in it for the man's reputation.
But at the time I was ignorant of this, and the mere thought of her
destitution and the perils in which see must have fallen, had
ruffled me almost beyond reason.
"Well, well, well," said I, "you will have to learn more sense."
I left her mails for the moment in an inn upon the shore, where I
got a direction for Sprott's house in my new French, and we walked
there--it was some little way--beholding the place with wonder as
we went. Indeed, there was much for Scots folk to admire: canals
and trees being intermingled with the houses; the houses, each
within itself, of a brave red brick, the colour of a rose, with
steps and benches of blue marble at the cheek of every door, and
the whole town so clean you might have dined upon the causeway.


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