Watson counts, briefly, in his head, and nods. "Well, at least you're doing that much. Still..."

He trails off; he knows there's no real answer here, not for any of them, other than continuing to do what they're doing, even if it can't possibly be sustainable in the long term. Instead, he sighs and leads the way up the steps to his home, and ushers Cerrit inside.

"Sit," he says; that at some point a chair without a back was obtained has never been pointed out, but simply done, as it was needed. Watson goes to start the kettle for some warm water.