So, having witnessed the exit of M. Tod, he crossed the street, and examined the contents of the window, as he had seen Macgregor do so often. He was not in the least nervous. The fact that he was without money did not perturb him: it would be the simplest thing in the world to introduce himself and his business by asking for an article which stationers’ shops did not supply. A glance at a druggist’s window had given him the necessary suggestion. On entering he was seized with a most distressing cough, which racked him while he closed the door and until he reached the counter. “A cold afternoon,” Christina remarked in a sympathetic tone. “Ay. Ha’e ye ony chest protectors?” he hoarsely enquired. For the fraction of a second only she hesitated. “Not exactly,” she replied. “But I can recommend this.” From under the counter she brought a quire of brown paper. “It’s cheaper than flannel and much more sanitary,” she went on. “There’s nothing like it for keeping out the cold. You’ve only got to cut out the shape that suits you.” She separated a sheet from the quire and spread it on the counter. “Enough there for a dozen protectors. Price one penny. I’ll cut them out for you, if you like.” “The doctor said I was to get a flannel yin,” said Willie, forgetting his hoarseness. “Ha’e ye ony nice ceegarettes the day, miss?” “No.” “Will ye ha’e ony on Monday?” “No.” “When d’ye think ye’ll ha’e some nice ceegarettes?” Christina’s eyes smiled. “Perhaps,” she said solemnly, “by the time you’re big enough to smoke them. Anything else to-day?” “Ye’re no’ sae green,” he said, with grudging admiration. “No,” said she; “it’s only the reflection.” She opened the glass case and took out an infant’s rattle. “Threepence!” Willie laughed. “My! ye’re a comic!” he exclaimed. “Children are easily amused.” There was a short pause. Then Willie, leaning his arms on the edge of the counter, looked up in her face and said: “So you’re the girl that’s mashed on Macgreegor Robi’son.” He grinned. A breath of silence――a sounding smack. Willie sprang back, his hand to his cheek. Christina, cheeks flaming, eyes glistening, teeth gleaming, hands clenched, drew herself up and faced him. “Get oot o’ this!” she cried. “D’ye hear me! Get oot――――” “Ay, I hear ye,” said Willie resentfully, rubbing his cheek. “Ye’re ower smart wi’ yer han’s. I meant for to say――――” “Be quiet!” “――you’re the girl Macgreegor’s mashed on――an’ I――――” Christina stamped her foot. “Clear oot, I tell ye!” “――I wudna be Macgreegor for a thoosan’ pounds! Keep yer hair on, miss. I’ll gang when it suits me. Ye’ve got to hear――――” “I’ll no’ listen.” She put her hands to her ears. “Thon girl, Jessie Mary, took a rise oot o’ ye last week, an’ it was me that put her up to it. Macgreegor gi’ed her the belt, richt enough, but that was afore he got saft on you――――”