[he's changed back into his moth-eaten wizard's robes and patched trousers, another of April's "borrowed" blouses placed neatly back inside the Luggage until his next library shift.

A woman's soulful voice is crackling from his record player before he hears the knock and shuts it off, and it's testament to Rincewind's growing sense of security within the Ludgate-Graham house that he only waits a moment after hearing Will's voice to open the door. He even smiles a little - if still nervously, because it's entirely possible Will could have horrible, terrible news. Like Petyr Baelish winning an important election. Something crazy.]

Not even a little bit, it's glorious. You're welcome to come in if you like. Everything, er, all right, is it?

- You aren't leaving the country again, are you?