Nick nodded along, inclining his head at King’s agreement. Not all were apparently as good as this one, though. “Ah, well, I s’pose it was a lucky night for me, then,” Nick acknowledged cheerfully, since he wasn’t so much in the habit as King. (He might decide to be more in the habit of coming to plays, if he bumped into intriguing dropped-off-the-map sorts like this.)

“More’s the pity for my friends,” Nick added, as they came out into the street, “for all abandoning me.” They had missed out on the play. (He had missed out on any callous implications of the way King’s friendships had probably all gone, in his day.)

Nick had no real desire to go along and find the rest of them now – he was in a different state of mind, after the show – and as he glanced both ways as if it would help him decide, he added, casually: “Come have a drink?” Just with him (and certainly he didn’t want his friends to see him with someone like King) but he did rather want King to take him up on it. “You’ll have to tell me what else worthwhile you’ve seen,” he suggested, in case that enticed him – although Nick was more morbidly interested in what King had been up to in the last few years. Perhaps they would get onto the topic, if only he agreed to a drink.

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