"Quite the contrary." He drank the beer, and holding out his hand in the shadow of the table, he noticed that it trembled only a little.
"That is better," he murmured.

"But I must sit here a while longer.

I suppose I was upset.

That is what they call it--upset! I have never been like that before.

Those lamps in the Prospekt! Gott! how they jumped up and down!" He pressed his hand over his eyes as if to shut out the brightness of the room--the glaring gas and brilliant decorations--the shining bottles and the many tables which would not keep still.
"Here," he said to the man, "give me more beer." Presently he rose, and, getting rather clumsily into his sleigh, drove back at the usual breakneck pace to the palace at the upper end of the English Quay.
He sent an ambiguous message to Paul, saying that he had returned and was dressing for dinner.