Come, be a brave girl, and take the plunge," he urged, a note of entreaty coming into his tone, for life was sweet to him, sweeter than it had ever been before, and it was dreadful to think that he must throw it away because this wilful girl refused to allow herself to be saved.

But she only covered her face with her hands, moaning and crying because of the panic that had her in its grip.
Then Jervis felt himself lifted higher; the water was rising fast, and now, by straining upward and reaching as far as he could, he managed just to touch the shelf whereon Mary was crouched, "Here I am.

Now, take my hand and come," he said urgently.
She only covered her face with her hands and moaned, but would not stir nor look up.
In that narrow gulch they were sheltered from the wind, but the rain was beginning to pour down in torrents, and Jervis thought grimly that she would soon be as wet as if she had taken the plunge.
He was kicking vigorously in the water, and was thankful to find that, now he had got over the first chill, his teeth were not chattering so miserably.
Another ten minutes, he reckoned, would put him high enough in the water to scramble on to the ledge, and then it would have to be a tussle of physical strength, if necessary, for he meant to save Mary somehow, whether she would let him or not.
The minutes dragged slowly on, the rain beat down with tempestuous violence, and in that dreary gulch it was dark, almost like night.
But the water was rising still, and putting out all his strength Jervis dragged himself up on to the shelf of rock.

Mary saw him coming.

Then she scrambled to her feet with a cry of fear, and, before he could stretch out an arm to save her, reeled and toppled over into the water..