Monday, 14 May 2012

Jingling her loot

      “Och, isn’t he the wee duck?” sighs she, jingling her loot as he hobbled away. “Aye, weel, mony a mickle mak’s a muckle, as Papa used to say.” She slipped it into her bag and broke into civilised speech.

Flashman and the Tiger, p.229, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.

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