"You are as weak as a bloody kitten," Peggy informs him without much sympathy, given that she wants for him to get better rather than force all his energy into trying to escape or pretend that he's healed far before he actually is. "Lucky for you, I didn't only bring books," she says, setting a fresh cup of tea down in front of him, from her personal stores.

"I've no idea how you take it, so it might be a bit disappointing," Peggy admits, crossing her legs as she adjusts in her chair, a signal that she's not intending to go anywhere anytime soon.