Was he never going to wake?
She was afraid to move; but by dropping forward on her knees she could just reach some soda-water on the table; she dashed it over his face.

The fire had hurt the soles of her feet; now it had caught her breast, her throat, her hair; it rose flaming round her head, and she cried aloud in her terror.

Still clutching Nevill's sleeve, she staggered and fell across him, and he woke.
He woke dazed; but he had sense enough to roll her in the rug and crush the flames out..