And then, his face got all serious business once he'd gathered up the drink, having with only his eyes glanced down to it in a minor acknowledgment of its existence, and then back up to Paul. He'd angled himself just so to fund a bit of charitable privacy between them, and said: "He's not happy because he lets the world step all over him. People can only take so much from you without giving, before there is little left of yourself. And when there's barely any of you, what's there to be happy for? It isn't selfish to want to be happy for you."
He'd sighed, turning his back only briefly to him to do a one-eighty in search of a table to sit at. Wait, did Paul did want to sit? Or did he want to walk? "Sit or walk?" He'd inquired, by moving his chin toward his shoulder to glance over.