It's hard to be sure what Fitzjames' face is doing in the dim light, but the long pause after what had felt like a very sensible question tells Raju he's come on too strong in some way or another. Usually it's easy to tell once he's gotten carried away what different current the other person's moving down instead, but here it's a little harder. Food, how well Fitzjames has been keeping...
The food itself hadn't seemed like the problem. It's the assumption of intimacy, maybe. Francis likes being taken care of, tolerates with good humour Raju's declarations of how they're going to take care of this or that, because he knows what it means. But just because Raju sees a man so close to Francis as some extension of that, feels the same right and duty to see to Fitzjames' welfare too, that doesn't mean Fitzjames sees things that way.
Odd to realise it, both that he wants to take care of Fitzjames, too, and that he doesn't have a right to it. He tightens his arms around his chest and turns to pace again, his voice not sharp and expectant any more; it's quieter, a little more distant. "I... suppose I didn't. There wasn't much that needed doing. I was in the Community Hall, gave back what I could — firewood, mostly — and took from their stores when I needed it. I didn't even know how to fish."
But he's ever gotten anywhere by leaving things alone. He goes back to that last topic again, this time knowing what he ought to say more than he had. "I'm sorry for overstepping," he goes on, tone a friendly apology as he settles in one place again. "I got carried away. It's your business how you're getting on, not mine."
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The food itself hadn't seemed like the problem. It's the assumption of intimacy, maybe. Francis likes being taken care of, tolerates with good humour Raju's declarations of how they're going to take care of this or that, because he knows what it means. But just because Raju sees a man so close to Francis as some extension of that, feels the same right and duty to see to Fitzjames' welfare too, that doesn't mean Fitzjames sees things that way.
Odd to realise it, both that he wants to take care of Fitzjames, too, and that he doesn't have a right to it. He tightens his arms around his chest and turns to pace again, his voice not sharp and expectant any more; it's quieter, a little more distant. "I... suppose I didn't. There wasn't much that needed doing. I was in the Community Hall, gave back what I could — firewood, mostly — and took from their stores when I needed it. I didn't even know how to fish."
But he's ever gotten anywhere by leaving things alone. He goes back to that last topic again, this time knowing what he ought to say more than he had. "I'm sorry for overstepping," he goes on, tone a friendly apology as he settles in one place again. "I got carried away. It's your business how you're getting on, not mine."