"A change of the wind to the
south would sweep the fire right up this hill, and it may cross Van Ness
Avenue again at any time. So everybody is ordered out to the western hills,
or the Presidio, or across the Bay, if they can make it."
He had no private manners and greeted his sister with the same gallant
smile and little air of deference which always carried him a certain
distance in public. "You had better take out a mattress and blanket," he
said. "I wish I could do it for you--for all of you--but I am under orders
and must patrol where I am sent. When I finish giving the orders down here
I must go back to the Western Addition."
"Don't worry about us," said Gora drily. "We are all quite as capable as
men when it comes to looking out for ourselves in a catastrophe. I hear
that several wives led their weeping stricken husbands out of town
yesterday morning. Are you sure the fire will cross Van Ness Avenue
to-night?"
"It may be held back by the dynamiting, but one can be sure of nothing. Of
course the wind may shift to the west any minute. That would save this part
of the city."
"Well, don't let us keep you from your civic duties. You look very well in
those hunting boots. Lucky you went on that expedition last summer with Mr.
Cheever."
Mortimer frowned slightly and turned to the door. The brother and sister
rarely talked on any but the most impersonal subjects, but more than once
he had had an uneasy sense that she knew him better than he knew himself.
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