"Not that I am very good company," he added, looking sideways at the other's face and meeting a scrutinising glance.
"You look ill," Kalmon replied.

"I don't wonder." "I sometimes wish I had one of those tablets of yours that send people to sleep for ever," said Corbario, making a great effort to speak steadily.
But his voice shook, and a sudden terror seized him, the abject fright that takes hold of a man who has been accustomed to do something very dangerous and who suddenly finds that his nerve is gone at the very moment of doing it again.
The cold sweat stood on Folco's forehead under his hat; he stopped where he was and tried to draw a long breath, but something choked him.
Kalmon's voice seemed to reach him from a great distance.

Then he felt the Professor's strong arm under his own, supporting him and making him move forward.
"The weather is hot," Kalmon said, "and you are ill and tired.

Come outside." "It is nothing," Corbario tried to say.

"I was dizzy for a moment." Kalmon and the footman helped him into his low carriage, and raised the hood, for the afternoon sun was still very hot.
"Shall I go home with you ?" Kalmon asked.
"No, no!" cried Corbario nervously.