He nods, and gives Grantaire a long, speculative look. He has, admittedly, reset many of his opinions on the other young man as of two days ago; but he cannot recall if they have ever had a conversation so long without an argument before. It’s strange, and kind of nice, and perhaps the change of scenery will be a particular help.

But if he is silent too long, his thoughts do inexorably turn to the barricade, to the firing squad, Grantaire awakening, and he still is confounded by it. It’s probably best not to press, not to bring it up; and he settles into sipping his wine again. Just a brief thought of the barricades is enough to make his shoulders tense, and he’s hoping it doesn’t show too much.