"Keep back, I say; she is not dead. For pity's sake let the child have air!"
There was a slight retrograde movement and then a general start of wonder. Violet had opened her eyes!
For a second, hope rose in every breast; for a smile glimmered and flickered over the poor pale face, and the lips moved. She lifted the drooping arm which had hung so listlessly by her side, and laid it for a moment upon the faithful breast of the old policeman. "My friend," she said softly, and looked up into his eyes with a gaze which was terrible in its steadfastness of love; then the eyelids closed quietly again, and the smile died out.
A hush fell on all the people. Surely this was death.
But there was still a breath, and the little purple frock heaved slowly, and the frill of the white pinafore quivered with a thrilling motion.
All at once she moved, turned her head quickly towards the street, and strove to raise herself in the arms of her friend.
"Fritz, Fritz!" she cried eagerly, in a strange uplifted voice full of a strong appeal.
"Yes, here is Fritz; what is it, dear Violet?"
"Fritz is here," he replied faintly, lifting up an ashen face towards hers.