The smile seems to have worked. The man loses some of his suspicious air, and now the once-over he's giving the Doctor is more that of a native assessing a foreigner. Which, the Doctor supposes, is fair enough. The accent isn't quite one-hundred percent genuine, but it's close enough to be that of a naturalized Londoner. And anyway, any human would be able to claim native status anywhere on Earth before the Doctor.
"It's John. John Smith." He gives a slight, perfunctory smile; yes, he knows it's a boring name. "I'm sort of new here. Been stuck in my room for the past four days or so, or we might have met earlier. I've come down from Cardiff."
He glances around the room in the hope of spotting a second, easily accessible chair, but without success--mostly due to the dull, persisting throb in his side that prevents him from turning around properly. He gives a small sigh and looks back up, jerking a thumb at the line of chairs by the wall. "You can have the chair if you help me drag one of those over here."
Nothing like jointly overcoming an obstacle to start building friendships. And this place is so good about providing obstacles. No wonder it's all about the heart-felt support.
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"It's John. John Smith." He gives a slight, perfunctory smile; yes, he knows it's a boring name. "I'm sort of new here. Been stuck in my room for the past four days or so, or we might have met earlier. I've come down from Cardiff."
He glances around the room in the hope of spotting a second, easily accessible chair, but without success--mostly due to the dull, persisting throb in his side that prevents him from turning around properly. He gives a small sigh and looks back up, jerking a thumb at the line of chairs by the wall. "You can have the chair if you help me drag one of those over here."
Nothing like jointly overcoming an obstacle to start building friendships. And this place is so good about providing obstacles. No wonder it's all about the heart-felt support.