"Oh, Lor'—and I've got no matches! Nell!" flinging out and catching her as she stumbled forward.
She subsided on to the chair she had fallen against.
"Don't make such a row. Nell, there's a rat or something running up my leg!"
"Is—is it a beetle, do you think?"
"Very likely."
"Oh, Denis!" she drew her toes up on to the chair.
"Where do people keep matches, Nell?"
"I expect they're locked up!"
"No! Well, I can't go to bed on an empty—um—chest."
"Sleep on your back, then."