The man who worked next to him in the cutting-room at Lloyd's, and had searched at his side indefatigably from the first, stole a tender hand under his shoulder.

"Come along with me, old man," he said, and Andrew obeyed.
When Fanny and Eva came in with the child, he lay prostrate on the bed, and scarcely seemed to breathe.

A great qualm of fear shot over Fanny for a second.

His father had died of heart-disease.
"Is he--dead ?" she gasped to Eva.
"No, of course he ain't," said Eva.

"He's asleep; he's wore out.
Andrew, Andrew, Andrew, wake up! She's found, Andrew; Ellen's found." But Andrew did not stir.
"He is!" gasped Fanny, again.
"No, he ain't.