His heart can't stand it; it will wear him out before his time.
Listen, they are all talking about the Sahara.

I wish I were there; it must be quiet at any rate.

The sands beneath, the eternal stars above.
Yes, I wish I were there," he repeated with a sigh, and Alan noted that although his face could not be more pallid than its natural colour, it looked quite worn and old.
"So do I," he answered with enthusiasm.
Then a French gentleman on his left, having discovered that he was the engineer who had formulated the great flooding scheme, began to address him as "Cher maitre," speaking so rapidly his own language that Alan, whose French was none of the best, struggled after him in vain.

Whilst he was trying to answer a question which he did not understand, the door at the end of the hall opened, and through it appeared Barbara Champers.
It was a large hall and she was a long way off, which caused her to look small, who indeed was only of middle height.

Yet even at that distance it was impossible to mistake the dignity of her appearance.