It had, in fact, been many a night, and by then it had actually become a habit. Townsfolk had even come to fetch Benjamin here once, after failing to find him at his home. It might not continue, and each evening tested Benjamin's resolve so much that he kept telling himself that it should not continue... and yet it had been going on for over a week now.
John had come off the laudanum before he might start to get used to it, and it seemed to Benjamin as if this were his own addiction, now. Chess games. He invariably started out the evening better than he finished it. And he felt increasingly more comfortable, and less so, around John.
They didn't even need words, and Benjamin had to admit that he particularly savoured the silences. Ironic, after how much he had encouraged John to talk, and he would not have him stop, but there was something precious about being comfortable enough to stay silent with someone.
After being the doctor, he sat in his chair (his chair, honestly), took a cautious drink from his tea, and answered John's first, ridiculously bold move, with a second, very reasonable one of his own.