She turned to Alys bravely.
“Get into bed, little one,” she said, “I will sleep with you.”
Two gilt candelabra, each holding half a dozen lighted candles, illuminated the room. Marie examined the room with apprehensive eyes. There were no windows: only bare walls faced her on every side. Near the ceiling, on one side of the room, were three ventilators. She crept to the door through which Mrs. Knumf had left the room and softly turned the handle: it was locked.
Without a word and with a faint smile she approached Alys.
“Do not take your clothes off,” she said; “let us sleep as we are.”
Leaving the candles still burning, she lay down by her sister. Folded in each other’s arms, they lay for a long time without sleeping. Vague noises, whether in the house or not they could not tell, disturbed them from time to time.
“The fire’s coming nearer,” whispered Alys at length. “I know it is: I feel it is. Marie, let us go away from here: we shall be caught.”
She sat up in bed and looked wildly round the room.
“Lie down, little one,” said her sister, soothingly, as, rising on to her knees, she placed her arm round Alys’ waist. “We can do nothing till the morning. Lie down in my arms. You are quite safe.”
But Alys’ instinct was right. The fire was spreading with incredible rapidity, and even now was within a few yards of the brothel. The vague noises grew louder and more sinister.