There’s a strong arm around Waterhouse’s shoulders, turning him away from all for this. He cannot turn his head to see who owns this limb, because his vertebrae have again become unstacked. He figures out that it’s Rod, nobly taking his poor addled Yank roommate under his wing. Rod pulls a clean hanky from his pocket and puts it up to Waterhouse’s mouth, then takes his hand away. The hanky sticks to his lip, which is now shaped like a barrage balloon.