Her fingers were round his, and seemingly she forgot they were
there, even when the lights went up. And he hadn't the courage
--shall we say?--to withdraw them.

The succeeding film depicted a throbbing love story.

'This is mair in oor line,' she remarked confidentially.

Every time the sentiment rose to a high temperature, which was
pretty often, Macgregor felt a warm pressure on his fingers. He
had never before had a similar experience, not even in the
half-forgotten days of Jessie Mary; for Jessie Mary had not become
the pursuer until he had betrayed anxiety to escape from her toils.
And he had been only seventeen then.

The warm pressure made him uncomfortable, but not physically
so--and, apart from conscience, perhaps not altogether spiritually
so. For, after all, it's a very sore young manly heart, indeed,
that can refuse the solace, or distraction, offered in the close
proximity of young womanhood of the Maggie sort and shape. In
other words, Macgregor may have been conscientiously afraid, but he
had no disposition to run away.

About nine-thirty they came out. While he looked a little dazed
and defiant, she appeared entirely happy and self-possessed, with
her hand in his arm as though he had belonged to her for quite a
long time. But at the gorgeous portals she stopped short with a
cry of dismay. It was raining heavily.

'I've nae umburella,' she said, piteously regarding her fine
feathers. 'Ma things'll be ruined.'

'I'll get ye a cab,' he said after some hesitation induced less by
consideration of the expense than by the sheer novelty of the
proceeding. Ere she could respond he was gone. Not without
trouble and a thorough drenching he discovered a decrepit
four-wheeler.

Maggie had never been so proud as at the moment when he handed her
in, awkwardly enough, but with a certain shy respectfulness which
she found entirely delicious.

He gave the man the address, learned the fare, then came back to
the door and handed the girl the necessary money.

'Na!' she cried in a panic, 'I'll no gang unless ye come wi' me.
I--I wud be feart to sit ma lane in the cab. Come, lad; ye've
plenty time.'

He had no more than enough, but he got in after telling the man to
drive as quickly as possible.

'Sit here,' she said, patting the cushion at her side.

He obeyed, and then followed a long pause while the cab rattled
over the granite. She unpinned and removed her hat and leaned
against him heavi