In a different situation Walt might have rolled his eyes as Ephraim completely ignored the chair tossed in his direction, and the not so subtle 'it's our flat, sit down' hint that accompanied it.  For now though he simply sat on the arm of the couch with his book open, for all appearances deaf and blind to the confrontation going on on either side of him.

And the fact that he had managed, quite nonchalantly to place himself between Ephraim and his father?  Well, that certainly wasn't for Burt O'Malley's benefit. Although exactly what he expected to be able to do was anyone's guess.  Walt counted to fifteen in his head--more or less, he may have gotten lost somewhere there in the middle--and turned a page in his book, furrowing his brow in feigned interest.

“‘Bees and honey. Money,”

Walt's initial reaction was shock the older man had asked outright.  He remembered the stories of course of days when Burt O'Malley would tell his children he wanted flowers for their Mum--or later, to have money to go find her--and take what coin the boys had scrounged up to go drink.   He slid his eyes slowly to Eph and he flipped a page in the book.