He was so anxious that no one should speak to her that he even gave up the comfortable corner seat himself, and sat bolt upright beside her, a bit of self-denial which did not improve his temper, which was at no time a sweet one; and when at last Waterloo was reached, it was with no gentle hand that he shook and roused her from the kindly sleep which had fallen on her again, and blotted for the time all her woes from her memory.
With a shock Jessie started to her feet, staring about her with wide, dazed, sleep-filled eyes.

"Wake up, can't you?
I can't stay here all night while you has your sleep out!" No one else ever spoke to her in that tone and manner.

In a moment poor Jessie's eyes and brain were as wide awake and alert as fear could force them.

That dreaded voice would rouse her from the sleep of death almost, she thought.

Shaking with cold and dread, she followed him along the lighted platform, and out into the gloom and squalor of the streets.
A heavy rain was coming down in sheets, driven in their faces by a cold, gusty wind.