"Of course," he says, smiling shyly after the instruction. "Well, I'm not much for a cook, or a maid, but I would do either if you needed them done."

After he's poured them each a cup of tea, and prepared it the way he remembers Edith liking, he brings them into the next room so Edith could enjoy her drink sitting down, and without hobbling to and fro. Thomas sits himself, relaxing for the first time since coming into the apartment. He exhales a bit heavier than normal, and his smile reappears.

"Are you still writing?"