Fret not, O Typist, they were not yet seated, so Rachel moves to do that now with murmured thanks and an appreciation for Bruce's good manners. The wine glass is first moved back to her right hand and then raised to her lips as she settles in.

"Is she?" She smiles, a bit sadly. "I never know whether to be happy or sad for people when other people they know turn up here. It's like--look, it sucks. Being dragged here, not being able to leave, all the crap that happens. But at the same time... at least you're not alone? I don't know."