[That's... worrisome. Not that Zelgadis is worried about a stranger...]
Stop. [he says to the lady] You'll only exhaust yourself.
[His spell was ready, and so takes little effort to cast. A wan white light glows around his gloved hand as he holds it over the white-haired man's chest, then throat. A soft wind, not felt by anyone else in the room, billows Zelgadis's cape and hood as he increases the flow of magic.]