[That is exactly the heart of what John is getting at, though. If in, perhaps, a somewhat roundabout method.

Geralt may not have shared much in the way of detail with him, but it is enough that John feels comfortable in continuing his train of thought. Swirling his drink in his glass, he elaborates:]

When I first arrived, Claire had been here for some time. I had thought it a relief, to have at least one familiar face here with me in this unfamiliar place — and it is.

[He offers the other man the flash of a gentle smile, though a wistful sadness tugs at the edges of it.]

But she barely knew me. There are over ten years of our shared experience that, as far as I understand it, she has yet to live.

[He glances back at the drink in his hands.]

I had wondered… Whether such a thing was commonplace, or if I just have exceedingly terrible luck.