'I am very little hurt, I assure you.' 'Then you are not dead!' ejaculated the hysterical lady.

'Oh, say you are not dead!' 'Don't be a fool, Rachael,' interposed Mr.Wardle, rather more roughly than was consistent with the poetic nature of the scene.

'What the devil's the use of his saying he isn't dead ?' 'No, no, I am not,' said Mr.Tupman.

'I require no assistance but yours.
Let me lean on your arm.' He added, in a whisper, 'Oh, Miss Rachael!' The agitated female advanced, and offered her arm.

They turned into the breakfast parlour.