"Let I haul 'un in." In a few seconds the oaken tint in his face grew many shades lighter.
"Good Gawd!" he wheezed.

At the end of the rope was the body of a woman.
There are few more distressing objects than a drowned corpse.

On that bright June morning a dreadful apparition lost little of its grim repulsiveness because the body was that of a young and good-looking woman.
If one searched England it would be difficult to find two men of differing temperaments less likely to yield to the stress of even the most trying circumstance than Grant and Bates, yet, during some agonized moments the one, of tried courage and fine mettle, was equally horrified and shaken as the other, a gnarled and hard-grained rustic.

It was he from whom speech might least be expected who first found his tongue.
Bates, who had stooped, straightened himself slowly.
"By gum!" he said, "this be a bad business, Mr.Grant.Who is she?
She's none of our Steynholme lasses." Still Grant uttered no word.

He just looked in horror at the poor husk of a woman who in life had undoubtedly been beautiful.