"Everybody was out of his wits."
"I was," she said, bobbing her head at him. She was just so far from him, she thought, as to be safe from any impetuous movement. "And Hannah was nearly as bad." Hannah was the old woman. "You may imagine we had a wretched night of it."
"And all about nothing," said he, falling into her mood in the moment. "But think of poor Walker."
"Yes, indeed! I suppose he has friends, too, who loved him, as—as some people love you. But he is not going to die?"
"I hope not. Who is that young woman opposite who rushed out to me in the street? She says she brought you the news first."
"Miss Demijohn."
"Is she a friend of yours?"
"No," said Marion, blushing as she spoke the word very firmly.
"I am rather glad of that, because I didn't fall in love with her. She introduced me to ever so many of the neighbours. The landlady of the public-house was one, I think."
"I am afraid they have offended you among them."