So far it's just been that little bloke with the glasses who looks like he might be our first cousin. And I think my only question at the moment is where I can bloody change.

[He tips out his other shoe ruefully, sending a stream of water back into the fountain.

He looks up at her final sentence, and fixes her with a careful stare. He knows that voice. He's been hearing people talk to him with that voice in a steady stream for four months, now. He's learned the hard way that it's better not to ignore them.]

Alright, then.