But there did not seem to be any nervous shrinking in her manner, nor any shyness at having to face the two hundred and fifty guests of the Kurhaus.

She seemed rather to be unaware of their presence; or, if aware of, certainly indifferent to the scrutiny under which she was being placed.
She was recalled to reality by the voice of the Disagreeable Man.

She did not hear what he said, but she mechanically stretched out her hand and passed him the mustard-pot.
"Is that what you asked for ?" she said half dreamily; "or was it the water-bottle ?" "You are rather deaf, I should think," said the Disagreeable Man placidly.

"I only remarked that it was a pity you were not eating your dinner.

Perhaps the scrutiny of the two hundred and fifty guests in this civilized place is a vexation to you." "I did not know they were scrutinizing," she answered; "and even if they are, what does it matter to me?
I am sure I am quite too tired to care." "Why have you come here ?" asked the Disagreeable Man suddenly.
"Probably for the same reason as yourself," she said; "to get better or well." "You won't get better," he answered cruelly; "I know your type well; you burn yourselves out quickly.