"Do you know how they're holding up?" Susan wonders. Annoyingly, she's begun to care about the people coming to her for drinks as individuals on their own merits rather than simply (largely) as people important to Lancelot. Something about the forced proximity has left her moving beyond her earliest impressions of them. "The people who need drinks. I imagine it's ever so humiliating, to have to come to me each day for an allotment, and I haven't wanted to draw attention to it. But you're close with at least some of them. Are they weathering this storm?"