Oh, Merlin help him. She'd approached (not surprising), but then rather than make a quick comment and pass on, or even a superficial conversation, she'd asked for his company. He almost would have preferred to have suffered a pitying glance and her quickly bustling past him — it would have been humiliating, yes, but at least it would have been over quickly. If he was to accompany her back to her home (wherever that even was), he'd have to put off returning to the shelter of his own for that much longer. Every moment he stayed out here was only increasing the chances that he would embarrass himself with this blasted chair, and he was loathe to do that in front of her — or anyone, really, but particularly someone that he knew and actually passably enjoyed the company of.

"I'm afraid I shan't be very good company," he said rather miserably. It would have been rude to turn her down outright, but maybe she would see that walking someone to their destination when he couldn't even walk was the absolute last thing he was inclined to do.