As they pressed away, Margaret was left, pale and almost sinking
under the weight of Mary's body, which she had preserved in an
upright position by keeping her arms tight round Mary's waist,
dreading, with reason, the trampling of unheeding feet.
Now, however, she gently let her down on the cold clean pavement;
and the change of posture, and the difference in temperature, now
that the people had withdrawn from their close neighbourhood,
speedily restored her to consciousness.
Her first glance was bewildered and uncertain. She had forgotten
where she was. Her cold, hard bed felt strange; the murky glare in
the sky affrighted her. She shut her eyes to think, to recollect.
Her next look was upwards. The fearful bridge had been withdrawn;
the window was unoccupied.
"They are safe," said Margaret.
"All? Are all safe, Margaret?" asked Mary.
"Ask yon fireman, and he'll tell you more about it than I can. But
I know they're all safe."
The fireman hastily corroborated Margaret's words.
"Why did you let Jem Wilson go twice?" asked Margaret.
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