"They're pragmatic, you know," says Susan. "The well-wishes. If your brain started melting out of your ears, then I should think, hm." She purses her lips and gives him an assessing look, running through her mental list of suspected assignations. "At least a good third of the men here might go utterly useless. And then who could I bully into auditioning for the play? And besides, the lecture series would go absolutely tits-up." She tsks, shaking her head. "No, it's best you remain intact."