Clearly, Chatfield was in a bad way, mentally.

That he was not so badly off materially was made evident by the presence of a half-open kit bag which obviously contained food and a bottle of spirits.
For any notice that he took of them, Audrey, Vickers, and Copplestone might have been no more than the pebbles on which they stood.

In spite of the fact that Vickers shone the light on his fat face, and that three inquisitive pairs of eyes were trained on it, Chatfield continued to stare moodily and disgustedly out to sea and to take no notice of his gratuitous company.

And so utterly extraordinary was his behaviour and attitude that Audrey suddenly and almost involuntarily stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Mr.Chatfield!" she exclaimed.

"What 's the matter?
Are you ill ?" The emphasis which she gave to the last word roused some quality of Chatfield's subtle intellect.