She looked like shit, truth be told. Dishevelled and underdressed, yes, but it was more the way she was holding herself, tird and beaten. The fact that she was the one who did the beating helped. Slightly.
But a neighbor collapsing in a heap in the middle of his office wouldn't be very good for any of them, so he made a gestue towards the couch tucked off to the right of the door.
"Ah, there you've got the Postman in a nutshell; not gin, but it just might help." David laughed. "Feel free to sit down -- I'll just get that goop now before both of us forget." He turned with a nod and retreated back into his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him.