He was the sort of fellow who would go
through with a thing; and if he thought the best way on going out of the
agency was to go out of the world also, out he'd go. They were always a
resolute family--Nutter's great uncle, you know, drowned himself in that
little lake--what do you call it?--in the county of Cavan, and 'twas
mighty coolly and resolutely done too.'
But there was a haunting undivulged suspicion in the minds of each.
Every man knew what his neighbour was thinking of, though he did not
care to ask about his ugly dreams, or to relate his own. They all knew
what sort of terms Sturk and Nutter had been on. They tried to put the
thought away, for though Nutter was not a joker, nor a songster, nor a
story-teller, yet they liked him. Besides, Nutter might possibly turn up
in a day or two, and in that case 'twould go best with those who had not
risked an atrocious conjecture about him in public. So every man waited,
and held his tongue upon that point till his neighbour should begin.
CHAPTER LVI.
DOCTOR WALSINGHAM AND THE CHAPELIZOD CHRISTIANS MEET TO THE SOUND OF THE
HOLY BELL, AND A VAMPIRE SITS IN THE CHURCH.
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