[He awakens to the cool damp of a compress on his forehead, a dark figure looming over him (as she does) with all the tenderness of a vulture. Her lips are pursed in a scowl as she perceives that his eyes have finally opened, and Agathe's first words to him are:]

Don't make a fuss.

[She turns away again to dip the compress in water, long enough for him to clock that he's not restrained, that nothing in the room is amiss apart from his not having been here a moment ago.]