Long arches a brow at the picture the lad makes when he gets to the door-- looking as if he'd run a race-- perhaps through a dust devil. He hadn't seen much of the room beyond over the tablet, focused instead on the child, and doesn't really register Dick's attempts to clean up. Poor Dick and his wasted effort.

"There is no fire worth running to spectate at; catch your breath, Dick. Now then, I am certain you have a thousand and one questions, but I think the first order of business among civilised people should always be food."

He moves to hand the watermelon to Dick-- then pauses. "...have we washed our hands?"