Minutes later they had hustled her out into the street. Laura wasn’t sure how the decision had been made or even if anyone had consciously made one. Windows had been flung open on every floor and people were shouting up and down in the soggy midafternoon heat. More and more were pouring out—a human tide. Not angry, but manic, like soldiers on furlough, or kids out of school—milling, shouting, slapping each other on the shoulders.