The difference is, Lambert doesn't usually live where he works, but the nature of arrangements on the moon have made it more practical to keep things this way than otherwise. Lambert manages to sufficiently get his window open enough to stick his head out into crisp, cold air and suck in a few lungfuls of breath before what Strange says actually registers.

"Shopping?" he asks, a bit blankly, glancing over his shoulder to look at Strange with a quizzical expression. Tragically, he's already wearing at least three layers of clothing, though the extent of his petrification means pants have been an afterthought and so his stone legs just awkwardly stick out from under the tunics and cardigans he's bundled himself in.

"Shopping for what?" It's not like he wasn't listening to the Ringmaster's mandate or anything, but he arguably has had other things on his mind than worrying about where he's going to spend a bunch of money that isn't technically his own.