e's been so hard up for money?" demanded Sylvia. "Hang her!
You'd better run along, sonny; the other customers will be waiting;
and you had better not talk too much till you are sure what you are
talking about."
The boy went out and closed the door, and they heard his merry
whistle as he raced out of the yard.
Chapter VII
Sylvia Whitman, walking home along the familiar village street, felt
like a stranger exploring it for the first time. She had never before
seen it under the glare of tragedy which her own consciousness threw
before her eyes. No tragedy had ever been known in East Westland
since she could remember. It had been a peaceful little community,
with every day much like the one before and after, except for the
happenings of birth and death, which are the most common happenings
of nature.
But now came death by violence, and even the wayside weeds seemed to
wave in a lurid light. Now and then Sylvia unconsciously brushed her
eyes, as if to sweep away a cobweb which obstructed her vision. When
she reached home, that also looked strange to her, and even her
husband's face in the window had an expression which she had never
seen before. So also had Horace Allen's. Both men were in the south
room. There was in their faces no expression which seemed to denote a
cessation of conversation. In fact, nothing had passed between the
two men except the simple statement to each other of the news which
both had heard. Henry had made no comment, neither had Horace. Both
had set, with gloomy, shocked faces, entirely still. But Sylvia, when
she entered, forced the situation.
"Why should she kill a steady boarder, much as she needed one?" she
queried.
And Horace responded at once. "There is no possible motive," he said.
"The arrest is a mere farce. It will surely prove so."
Then Henry spoke. "I don't understand, for my part, why she is
arrested at all," he said, grimly.
Horace laughed as grimly. "Because there is no one else to arrest,
and the situation seems to call for some action," he replied.
"But they must have some reason."
"All the reason was the girl's (Hannah Simmons, I believe her name
is) seeming to be keeping something back, and saying that Miss Hart
gave Miss Farrel some essence of peppermint last night, and the fact
that the stable-boy seems to be in love with Hannah, and jealous and
eager to do her mistress some mischief, and has hinted at knowing
something, which I don't believe, for
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