"Rubbish? I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about." Alright, so some of the dishware probably desperately needs to be replaced and there are a few records in his collection he isn't strictly proud of, but rubbish? Surely not. But mostly he just shoots her a quick sideways grin and taps the foot of the cane against the train car's carpet as people slowly gather their baggage and file off.

"Is there such a thing as French lunch? Seems worth it to at least do it properly the first time, doesn't it?" So he's had a nice nap, he's all high and tingly from percocet -- it's a lot easier to be invested in the whole 'French experience.'