Something dropped on me, catching the point of my left shoulder.
And then I think I became unconscious.
My stupor can scarcely have lasted beyond a few seconds.

I felt myself being choked by thick yellow fumes, and struggled out of the debris to my feet.

Somewhere behind me I felt fresh air.

The jambs of the window had fallen, and through the ragged rent the smoke was pouring out to the summer noon.

I stepped over the broken lintel, and found myself standing in a yard in a dense and acrid fog.