prevent it." He drew his pipe from his pocket, rapped it noisily against the desk and began to fill it.
"You're not goin' to smoke, Mr. Brodie," cried the first clerk, looking up from his ledger in some concern. "You know it's strictly forbidden."
Brodie glowered at him, swinging a little on his stool, as he answered:
"And who would stop me ? I'll do as I like in here. A man like me shouldna have to beg and pray for permission to light his pipe."
He effected this action now, defiantly, sucking noisily and flinging the spent match disdainfully upon the floor. Then, with a profound movement of his head, between puffs he resumed, "No! and I'm not agoin' to do it. Gad! If I had my rights, I wouldna be sittin' in this rotten office. I'm far above this kind o' work, far above any kind o' work. That's true as death, but it just canna be proved, and I've got to thole things as best I can. But it doesna alter me. No! By God, no! There's many a man in this Borough would be glad to have the blood
that runs in my veins." He looked around for approval but, observing that his listeners, tired of the stale recitation of his pretentions, had bowed their heads in a feigned indifference, he was displeased; none the less he turned their defection to account by producing a small, flat bottle from his hip, quickly applying it to his lips, and stealthily returning it to his pocket. Thus refreshed, he continued, as though unconscious of their lack of attention, "Blood will tell! There's nothing truer than that. I'll come up again. It's nothing but a lot of rotten jealousy that's put me here; but it'll not be for long. Ye can't keep a good man down. I'll soon be back again where folks'll recognise me again for what I am, back at the Cattle Show, rubbin’ shoulders with the Lord Lieutenant o' the County and on the best o' terms equal terms, mind ye" he emphasised this to the air by a jerk o' his pipe "ay, on equal terms with the finest blood in the county and with my name standin' out brawly in the paper amongst them all." As he viewed the future by regarding the glory of the past, his eye moistened, his lower lip drooped childishly, his breast heaved and he muttered, "God! That's a grand thing to happen to a man."
"Come on now, Mr. Brodie," entreated the other clerk, breaking in upon his meditation, "put away your pipe now you've had a smoke. I don't want to see you getting into trouble."
Brodie glowered at him for an instant then suddenly guffawed:
"Man, you're awfu' feared. True enough, it's as you say. I've had a smoke, but I'm goin' to have another and more than that I'm goin' to have a dram as well!" He slyly produced the bottle again and, whilst they watched him with startled eyes, partook of a long pull.
Instead of returning the flask to his pocket, he stood it before him on top of his desk, remarking, "Yell be handier for me there, hinny, and I can look at ye as well and watch ye goin' down inch by inch.”
Then, flattered to find himself the focus of their anxious stares, he continued, "Speakin’ of trouble there's one thing that little runt said to me this mornin' that was so ridiculous it's stuck in my head." He frowned prodigiously at the very memory. "I think I mind of him sayin' 'the look o' ye is a slur on the whole place' ay, that was it these were his very words. Now tell me, lads what the devil was he talkin' about? Is there anything wrong with my appearance?"
He glared at them with a bellicose mien whilst they shook their heads from side to side doubtfully. "I'm a fine-lookin' man, am I not?" he shot at them, watching their silent assent with a large and exaggerated approval. "I knew it," he cried, "It was just his measly spite. Ay! I was always a grand upstandin' figure of a man, well set up, with a skin on me as clear as a bairn's. Besides," he continued, looking at them sideways, craftily, as he stroked the coarse stubble on his sallow chin with a rustling sound, "there's another reason why I know he's wrong. Ye're maybe ower young to hear but it's no harm to tell ye that a certain lass ay, the bonniest in Levenford, puts me first abune everybody else. Odd, I maun have a drink at the very thought of her."
He drank a toast with decorous solemnity in honour of the loveliest lady in Levenford and was for some time silent whilst he considered her happily. He wanted to talk about her, to boast proudly of her attractions, but a shadow of restraint held him back and, searching with contracted brows amongst the recesses of his mind for the reason of his reserve, a sudden illumination shone upon him. He became aware that he could not speak more freely about her because she was not his wife. At this startling realisation of his mused brain he silently reviled himself for his negligence. "Losh," he muttered to himself, "ye havena acted fair, man. Ye should have thought on this before." He shook his head deprecatingly, took another swig of spirits to assist his meditations, and a profound pathos for the plight of Nancy seized him as he whispered in a maudlin tone, "I believe I'll do it. By God! I will do it for her." He almost shook hands with himself at the nobility of the sudden resolution he had formed to make an honest woman of her. True, she was not of much consequence in the social scale, but what of it; his name would cover her, cover them both, and if he married her he would, in one magnificent gesture, keep her more securely in the house, put himself right in the eyes of the town and still for ever these sad, questioning glances which he had observed from time to time on Nessie's face. He banged his fist on the desk, crying out, "I'll do it! I'll mention it this very night," then, grinning at the strained faces before him he remarked, with an assumption of lofty rectitude, "Don't be alarmed, lads. I've just been planning out things and I've just decided to do something for my wee Nessie. She's well worth it." Then, lowering his elevated tone, he leered at them cunningly and added, "A little matter of domestic policy that you're sure to hear of sooner or later." He was about to enlighten them more lucidly when one of the clerks, perceiving perhaps in advance the drift of the revelations that might follow, hurriedly sought to deflect his attention by exclaiming:
"And how is Nessie getting on, Mr. Brodie?"
He blinked for a moment at the questioner before replying:
"Fine! Ye know she's gettin' on fine. Dinna ask stupid questions, man. She's got the Latta in her pocket already."
Then, launching out on this fresh subject that now presented itself to his muddled mind he continued, "She's a great comfort to me, is that lass. To see her puttin' a spoke in that young Grierson's wheel time after time is a rich treat to me. She always beats him, ye know and every time she does it, it must be gall and wormwood to that smooth sneakin' father o' his. Ay! Gall and wormwood it must be!"
He sniggered at the very reflection of it and, with a more acute tilt of the bottle to his mouth, was emptying it completely of its contents when, failing in the attempt to laugh and drink simultaneously, he choked and burst into a prolonged fit of hoarse coughing. "Pat my back, damn ye," he gasped with congested face and running eyes as he bent forward, heaving like a sick and emaciated elephant. "Harder! Harder!" he cried as one of the others, leaping from his stool, began to thump his bowed back.
"That's a nasty cough," said the young fellow when the paroxysm had finally abated. "That's what comes of sitting in damp clothes."
"Bah! It wasna a hoast at all that," replied Brodie, wiping his face with his sleeve. "I've never wore a coat yet and I never will. I've lost my umbrella somewhere, but it doesna matter; the rain aye seems to do me good. I'm strong as a Clydesdale stallion," and he extended his gaunt structure to show them the manner of man he was.
"Nessie doesn't take after you, Mr. Brodie," remarked the first speaker. "She doesna look too strong!"