Combeferre puts his hand on Joly's shoulder. "I do know what you mean. And that can't have been pleasant, no. A man striking out, unthinking, with no real goal, and no sense of who he truly wishes to hit--"

He shakes his head. "It was kind of you to offer to help him with the computer. And kinder still to keep trying to speak with him, when he was behaving so."