The sound of his voice gave me a distinct feeling of relief.
But he would not admit me.

Through the closed door he declared he was "all right," wanted no medical advice, and asked only to resume the sleep he claimed I had broken.

I left him, not without uneasiness, and the next morning the sight of him still in the flesh was a genuine thrill.

I found him walking the deck carrying himself nonchalantly and trying to appear unconscious of the glances--amused, contemptuous, hostile--that were turned toward him.

He would have passed me without speaking, but I took his arm and led him to the rail.