"She's dead, I think--dead in the snow at the Stone-pits--not far from my door." Godfrey felt a great throb: there was one terror in his mind at that moment: it was, that the woman might _not_ be dead.

That was an evil terror--an ugly inmate to have found a nestling-place in Godfrey's kindly disposition; but no disposition is a security from evil wishes to a man whose happiness hangs on duplicity.
"Hush, hush!" said Mr.Crackenthorp.

"Go out into the hall there.
I'll fetch the doctor to you.

Found a woman in the snow--and thinks she's dead," he added, speaking low to the Squire.

"Better say as little about it as possible: it will shock the ladies.