"Oh, fine, fine," he says. Then he remembers -- and it hasn't actually been apparent until he starts walking -- that he's still limping, still has the cane the infirmary gave him pressed into his side. That, in a nutshell, his stupid leg still hurts.

He clears his throat delicately. "Well-- other than the obvious. I'm afraid I ran afoul of a pair of corrupt federal agents while I was back in Chicago and one of them shot me."