His lips were thickly covered with foam, his eyes glaring, and the fellow was talking wildly, in low tones, as though to himself.
"Come away and leave him.

He's intoxicated," announced one woman shrilly.
"He's not intoxicated," responded another matron indignantly.

"There is no odor of liquor about the poor man.

And drunken men don't froth at the mouth.

This poor fellow is ill--very ill.