Keller at first imagined this was why he could not see the wagon well, but after a few moments he knew better.
He went into the store with a staggering step, and the rank smell of cheese and salt-pork nauseated him.

The room felt very hot and was full of flies that buzzed in a tormenting cloud round his head.

He wanted quietness and made his way to the dark back office, where he dropped into a chair.
"Go to the hotel," he ordered the clerk who entered after him.

"Tell Jake to give you a big glass of the special whisky.

Be quick, but don't run and spill the stuff." The clerk came back in a few minutes, and Keller pulled himself together when he had drained the glass, though his forehead was damp with sweat.
"Now where's the list of the truck Gascoyne got ?" he said.