A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. 216 “Please, get dressed. There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way to dig it out. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar.
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