At the same instant Basil's stiffness broke, and he sank, his enemies closing over him.
Rupert's head was clear, but his body shaken; he was hanging as best he could on to the half-prostrate Greenwood.

They were rolling over each other on the floor, both somewhat enfeebled by their falls, but Rupert certainly the more so.

I was still successfully held down.

The floor was a sea of torn and trampled papers and magazines, like an immense waste-paper basket.

Burrows and his companion were almost up to the knees in them, as in a drift of dead leaves.