Patsy’s throat tickled.
He coughed and partly dislodged his gag, but it was only to take more gas into his lungs.
With all his might he wriggled so that the cord might be cut or worn enough to break.
He could make no effect on it, so far as he could tell.
Every strain simply made the cord cut deeper into his flesh, and he was as helpless as before.
The poisoned atmosphere choked him.
He felt his head whirling.
The whole house seemed to be going around and around.
In the confusion of his mind he seemed to hear voices in a loud discussion.