She straightened her shoulders and glanced at her hands tenderly.
"Lord, na! Freckles," she cried.

"At least, the anes ye get from people ye love dinna.

They dinna stay on the outside.

They strike in until they find the center of your heart and make their stopping-place there, and naething can take them from ye--I doubt if even death----Na, lad, ye can be reet sure kisses dinna wash off!" Freckles set the basin down and muttered as he plunged his hot, tired face into the water, "I needn't be afraid to be washing, then, for that one struck in.".