For a long moment, Susan studies Lancelot. She can't say that she's certain they must be, a little bit because she doesn't know, not at all and certainly not for certain, but mostly because she worries he'll take that to mean there's a subtext of without you to her words. "I do hope so," she says, finally, squeezing his hand. "Was it good, to be able to speak of it all with Arthur?"