Startled, Clem relaxed her grasp.

Jane tore herself away, fled up the kitchen stairs, fled upwards still, flung herself at the feet of someone who had come out on to the landing and held a light.
'Oh, help me! Don't let her! Help me!' 'What's up with you, Jane ?' asked Clara, for it was she who, not being yet in bed, had come forth at once on hearing the scream.
Jane could only cling to her garment, pant hysterically, repeat the same words of entreaty again and again.

Another door opened, and John Hewett appeared half-dressed.
'What's wrong ?' he cried.

'The 'ouse o' fire?
Who yelled out like that ?' Clem was coming up; she spoke from the landing below.
'It's that Jane, just because I gave her a rap as she deserved.

Send her down again.' 'Oh, no!' cried the poor girl.