Edgeworth flinched from the contact. Not that that was anything new—physical displays often made him uncomfortable—but in this case the discomfort appeared to be bordering on pain. He swayed as he extricated himself from Wright’s grip, narrowed unusually pale grey eyes at him like someone nursing a hangover.

“Do I look like I’m all right? ...For that matter, do you expect that kind of treatment to make me feel better?” For a moment, he moved as if he was going to stalk past Wright into the apartment. He hesitated at the doorjamb, an odd, uncertain look crossing his face, then stared expectantly at his companion.