He, assuredly, was not well.

His eyes were lined heavily, his white cheeks had a flush of red that burnt there feverishly, and he seemed extraordinarily thin.

He was restless, his eyes were never still, and I saw him sometimes fix them, in a strange way, upon some object as though he would assure himself that it was there.

He was obviously under the influence of some deep excitement.
He told me that he was sleeping badly, that his head ached, and that his eyes hurt him, but he did not seem distressed by these things.

He was too strongly absorbed by something to be depressed.