Then she flung herself flat on the floor in an agony of sobs.
“It’s better to pray than to cry, Belle. Crying won’t help and we are in a pretty warm place. If you were only a sport, it might do a lot of good.”
Belle crawled to the window and leaned out. The air in the room was becoming unbearable.
In the meantime, Billie’s thoughts were working rapidly. There were the sheets, but there wasn’t time to tear them into strips and knot the strips together. Besides, she didn’t believe they would reach halfway to the ground.
“I am afraid we’ll have to climb it,” she said.
“Climb what?”
“Climb up the side of the shutter to the roof. This is the top floor. The flames haven’t reached the roof yet.”
“But what good will the roof do us?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s better than this. Come on.”
“I tell you I can’t climb. I never did such a thing in my life.”