PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
then they were on the second floor and the smoke seemed lighter. Water hissed below them and a red glow beat on his closed lids as they reached the last flight. At the top he paused and looked with streaming eyes. Like a great snake a fire hose was pulsing along the hall below, spouting water from a leaky coupling, but the way was clear. Rubber-clad forms passed in and out, and the placid face of a policeman, on guard, peered around the comer of the doorway. He saw them when they were halfway down the stairs and hurried up, exclaiming. He would have taken Peggy in his arms and carried her down, but Gordon held her tightly to him. "I'll look after her," he muttered. The spray from the hose drenched them as they passed, and then they were outside and an excited murmur that was almost a cheer arose from the throng that, held back by the police, watched from a little distance. Gordon opened eyes and lungs to the fresh air and led Peggy down the steps. A youth with a fire badge on his coat and pencil and paper in hand got in the way, volleying questions. Gordon swore at him and pushed him aside. The crowd, sympathetic and admiring, opened and let them through.
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