Even as she's freeing the suitcase from his loose grasp, she's taking note of his more obvious symptoms. Already, she's trying to form a diagnosis, considering possible causes of his illness. At the same time, she's trying to determine just how sick he is, and whether he's likely to actually die in the near future. He certainly looks like he's dying.

"It's Helen, actually." And no, she doesn't seem at all phased by the fact he's apparently mistaken her for someone else, and someone else he doesn't seem to have much of a fondness for at that. "Come on," that gentle note is back in her voice as she lightly rests her free hand at his elbow, meant to encourage him toward the chair she'd suggested moments earlier.