he means mischief," said the first. "Poor young thing I do pity her, if 'tis true. He'll drag her to the dogs."
"Oh, no; he'll settle down quiet enough," said one disposed to take a more hopeful view of the case.
"What a fool she must have been ever to have had anything to do with the man! She is so selfwilled and independent too, that one is more minded to say it serves her right than pity her."
"No, no! I don't hold with ye there. She was no otherwise than a girl mind, and how could she tell what the man was made of. If 'tis really true, 'tis too hard a punishment, and more than she ought to hae.—Hullo, who's that?" This was to some footsteps that were heard approaching.
"William Smallbury," said a dim figure in the shades, coming up and joining them. "Dark as a hedge to-night, isn't it. I all but missed the plank over the river ath'art there in the bottom—never did such a thing before in my life. Be ye any of Boldwood's workfolk?" He peered into their faces.
"Yes—all o'us. We met here a few minutes ago."
"Oh, I hear now-that's Sam Samway: thought I knowed the voice, too. Going in?"
