"Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. ’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur-street. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all.
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