Then I thought he was alive, I did.

The touch flayt me, and I fled away--I don't know how.

Ralph, I saw the mark of my hand on his face when they drew me up to it next day in the bedroom of the inn.

That night I paid my rent with your father's money, and then I went home." "It was my father's money, then--not Wilson's ?" said Ralph.
"It was as I say," Sim answered, as though hurt by the implication.
Ralph put his hand on Sim's shoulder.

Self-condemned, this poor man's conscience was already a whirlpool that drew everything to itself.
"Tell me, Sim--that is, if you can--tell me how you came to suspect Wilson of these dealings." As he said this Ralph tapped with his fingers the warrant which Sim had returned to him.
"By finding that James Wilson was not his name." "So you found that, did you; how ?" "It was Mother Garth's doings, not mine," said Sim.
"What did she tell you ?" "Nothing; that is, nothing about Wilson going by a false name.