ing embrace than to drop from these dizzy heights down through that terrible distance, to hear her own bones snap as she touched the quilt, and to see her own blood staining the ground.
"She’ll burn, sure," said a man. "Well, she’s half-witted—that’s one comfort!"
Mary started as if she were stung, and forced her way still nearer to the window; hoping to gain a position where she could be more plainly seen.
Everybody thought something was going to happen. Mary had dozens of friends and more acquaintances in that motley assemblage, and they somehow felt that there were dramatic possibilities in the situation. Unless she could think of something, Marm Lisa’s last chance was gone: that was the sentiment of the crowd, and Mary agreed in it.
Her cape had long since dropped from her shoulders, her hat was trampled under foot, the fair coil of hair had loosened and was falling on her neck, and the steel fillet blazed in the firelight. She stepped to the quilt and made a despairing movement to attract Lisa’s attention.
"Li-sa!" she called, in that sweet, carry-
