It wad smell o' the musk, ye ken.

Na, it's just a wheen blackguards at London that makes use o' her name to torment puir folk.

Wad she pairsecute a puir lad?
No likely." She then asked questions, some of which were embarrassing.

One thing he could never succeed in making her understand, how, since it was sixty pounds he borrowed, it could be eighty pounds he owed.
Then once more she promised him her protection, bade him be of good cheer, and left him.
At the door she turned, and said: "Chairles, here's an auld wife seeking ye," and vanished.
These two young people had fallen acquainted at a Newhaven wedding.
Christie, belonging to no one, had danced with him all the night, they had walked under the stars to cool themselves, for dancing reels, with heart and soul, is not quadrilling.
Then he had seen his beautiful partner in Edinburgh, and made a sketch of her, which he gave her; and by and by he used to run down to Newhaven, and stroll up and down a certain green lane near the town.
Next, on Sunday evenings, a long walk together, and then it came to visits at his place now and then.
And here.

Raphael and Fornarina were inverted, our artist used to work, and Christie tell him stories the while.
And, as her voice curled round his heart, he used to smile and look, and lay inspired touches on his subject.
And she, an artist of the tongue (without knowing herself one), used to make him grave, or gay, or sad, at will, and watch the effect of her art upon his countenance; and a very pretty art it is--the _viva voce_ story-teller's--and a rare one among the nations of Europe.
Christie had not learned it in a day; when she began, she used to tell them like the other Newhaven people, with a noble impartiality of detail, wearisome to the hearer.
But latterly she had learned to seize the salient parts of a narrative; her voice had compass, and, like all fine speakers, she traveled over a great many notes in speaking; her low tones were gorgeously rich, her upper tones full and sweet; all this, and her beauty, made the hours she gave him very sweet to our poor artist.
He was wont to bask in her music, and tell her in return how he loved her, and how happy they were both to be as soon as he had acquired a name, for a name was wealth, he told her.