He had, to an extent, recovered himself.

He threw off his mittens and rasped his hands over the fire in an effort at cheerfulness.

But there was something forced in his manner, something that he was making a terrific fight to keep under.

He was like one who had been in great mental stress for many days instead of a single hour.

His eyes burned with the smouldering glow of a fever; his shoulders hung loosely as though he had lost the strength to hold them erect; he shivered, David noticed, even as he rubbed his hands and smiled.
"Curious how this has affected me, David," he said apologetically.