It shocks him, the idea of their being in the guest's bedchamber.

He peremptorily orders them out.

They do not answer him, they do not argue; in dead silence, and with one accord they fall upon him.

All you can see from the bed is a confused tangle of waving arms and legs, suggestive of an intoxicated octopus trying to find bottom.

Not a word is spoken; that seems to be the etiquette of the thing.