Something about the person beside me was a point of intrigue. Perhaps the fact that, though we were sitting in an air raid shelter in the Underground and it was stiflingly hot, they were still entirely dressed in all their layers. I paused and considered myself, my own undone necktie, discarded suit jacket on my lap, rolled up sleeves, the first few buttons of my shirt undone. Not my best presentation. Though these weren't the best of times. "Nice weather," the stranger beside me murmured. I glanced at you. "Sorry?"