Ford put his hands in his pockets as they walked, his eyes on the ground. He was still trying to walk through the implications of what Cash had said... or implied, rather. Cash had said very little. They were talking about pocketwatches; they'd been here a long time. Not much to go on. But Cash seemed to remember having been here a long time, and Ford — didn't, exactly, but he was beginning to feel as though there was something there. Like a vague shadowy shape in the corner of the room when you hadn't looked up in a while. There was something, and he could sort of sense the edges of it. They'd been here a long time.

"How'd we get here?" he asked, still frowning at his feet.

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