They were always a resolute family--Nutter's great uncle, you know, drowned himself in that little lake--what do you call it ?--in the county of Cavan, and 'twas mighty coolly and resolutely done too.' But there was a haunting undivulged suspicion in the minds of each.
Every man knew what his neighbour was thinking of, though he did not care to ask about his ugly dreams, or to relate his own.

They all knew what sort of terms Sturk and Nutter had been on.

They tried to put the thought away, for though Nutter was not a joker, nor a songster, nor a story-teller, yet they liked him.

Besides, Nutter might possibly turn up in a day or two, and in that case 'twould go best with those who had not risked an atrocious conjecture about him in public.

So every man waited, and held his tongue upon that point till his neighbour should begin..