Then she started to her feet. The kind, protecting presence faded back into her dream.
The horrible smoke, the scorching smell, were true.
A glare smote sky and trees and water, as she saw them from the window.
There was fire near her!
Could it be among the buildings of the mill?
The long, main structure ran several feet beyond the square projection within which she stood. Upon the other side, close to the front, quite away, of course, from all observation hence, joined, at right angles, another building, communicating and forming one with the first. Here were the carding rooms. Then beyond, detached, were houses for storage and other purposes connected with the business.
Was it from one of these the glare and smoke and suffocating burning smell were pouring?
Or, lay the danger nearer—within these close, contiguous walls?
Vainly she threw up the one window, and leaned forth.
She could not tell.