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 Water's bank, and Walter looked upon him as his closest friend. One night he brought him home to supper, and after that he came constantly. You wouldn't have thought, to look at that man, Mr. Hepworth, that he was bad. He had a nice, smooth way of talking, and he was always good company, and Walter was fond of him. When I used to think all these things over afterwards, that was the thing I couldn't understand—that Walter should have been fond of this man. For Walter himself was as simple-hearted as a child, while Stephen Wood was—well, may God reward him for what he was!" She said these words with such vehemence that Hepworth turned and gazed at her in astonishment. Her face was just then full of vindictive hate; her eyes assumed the fierce, eager expression that he had seen in them in the village chapel. She paused a moment, and seemed to recall her thoughts to other matters.

"Well, sir," she continued, "we had been