I sung out: "Rectus!" and gave a big heave, which made the bed rattle.

I was scared.
In a second, Rectus was standing by me.

He had been sitting by the window.

He was all dressed.
"Don't shout that way again," he said, in a low voice, "or I'll have to tie this handkerchief over your mouth," and he showed me a clean linen handkerchief all folded up, ready.

"I wont put it so that it will stop your breathing," he said, as coolly as if this sort of thing was nothing unusual.