“No—and I cannot see you, Robin. We are both blind, from the smoke. But it will soon pass.”
“Where am I?”
“You are in your own room, dear.”
Memory was coming back to Robin—and with memory, fear.
“Mother—the fire! Is the house safe?”
“Quite safe—the fire has gone. It missed the house, Robin—nothing is burned, except the grass. The wind changed in the night, and everything is safe now.”
Robin wrinkled her brow under the wet bandage that hid her eyes.
“I can’t remember,” she said. “We were in the creek, weren’t we? Oh, and I ran to let Roany out, and the fire came—and I saw Polly running, and I knew she shouldn’t run. Is she all right, Mother?”
Mrs. Hurst was silent for a moment.
When her voice came, it was trembling.