[The journal is, to some extent, background noise. He keeps it open and listens to whatever he can while he works in the corner of the apartment that he's claimed for a desk. Notes -- both about Luceti and what he can remember of the Lutece Field and all of that work -- are spread out in a very ordered chaos.

So when he hears Elizabeth, he stops in his work. Not from the journal itself, no, but from inside the apartment.

He waits until she's finished before he speaks. ...Trying to ignore that she's reminded him he hasn't eaten today, which provokes the hunger that had come and gone some hours earlier.]

You don't need to worry about making food for us, Elizabeth. Couldn't you just hire a domestic? I'm sure the three of us could afford it.

[...After all, the Luteces were wealthy enough in Columbia to afford a pair of maids. One for the kitchen and one for basic cleaning.]