She exhorted us to copious draughts, but it was much too nasty for more than a sip, though warming to a degree.
"Better take very little at a time," Dicky suggested, but Mrs.Portheris reaffirmed her faith in the virtues of eucalyptus, and with such majesty as was compatible with the neck of the bottle, drank deeply.

Then we stumbled on.

Presently Mrs.Portheris yawned widely twice, thrice, and again.

"I beg your pardon," said she, "I don't seem able to help it." "It's the example of these gaping sepulchres," Dicky replied.

"Don't apologize." The passages grew narrower and more complex, the tombs more irregular.
We came to one that partly blocked the path, tilted against the main wall like a separate sarcophagus, though it was really part of the solid rock.