He sets about things, now--a towel over his shoulder, the sleeves to his flannel rolled up. It's fairly easy to put together what he wants, and he talks as he goes.

This is nice. He's finding he's not too worried about much--it's more conversation than keeping the other person happy, which is what he does far more frequently.

"Are yours? Honest." He means 'good,' really, though he's too polite to say it, and he's mostly curious if Benedict thinks he's worth it. Silver doesn't understand art at all--though Charlotte at the Benbow is an awful talented painter.