When Dorothy recovered her senses they were still falling, but not so fast.
She stood with her slender arms hanging down, her scarcely defined bosom rising and falling regularly, and with bated breath and glittering, frightened eyes gazed straight before her, evidently prepared for the height of joy or misery.
She leaped from her bed, the book falling to the floor unnoticed.
You're falling for him.
But her thoughts were falling under the control of something else.