No, I won't go to my dressing-room.

In God's name, just let me stretch myself on the bunk in the Office and go to sleep.' He threw himself on a bush-carpentered settle, with mattress and pillows covered in Turkey-red, which was used sometimes at mustering times when there was an overplus of visitors.

There he lay like a log for close on twelve hours.
By and by, Lady Bridget, at once longing and reluctant, came softly in to see how he fared.
A storm of pity, anger, tenderness, repulsion--the whole range of feeling, it seemed, between love and hate--swept over her as she looked at the great gaunt form stretched there.

Colin was still in riding clothes and booted and spurred.

His moleskins were black with smoke and charcoal; his flannel shirt, open at the neck, showed red scratches and scorch-marks on the exposed chest and was torn over the arms, where were more excoriations of the flesh.