"If my father did kill anybody, he never thieved!" And as Silvere, pale and trembling more than she, began to clench his fists: "Stop!" she continued; "this is my affair." Then, turning to the men, she repeated with a shout: "You lie! You lie! He never stole a copper from anybody.

You know it well enough.

Why do you insult him when he can't be here ?" She drew herself up, superb with indignation.

With her ardent, half-wild nature she seemed to accept the charge of murder composedly enough, but that of theft exasperated her.

They knew it, and that was why folks, from stupid malice, often cast the accusation in her face.
The man who had just called her father a thief was merely repeating what he had heard said for many years.