"I'm sorry I don't know how to give you answers, sweetheart. I can share notes, and I can make guesses, but I'm...well. Not one of the smart ones. Never have been. Back in Boston, I hung around with a son of Thoth, and he did my thinking for me, and I did his charming talking for him. It worked out, then. Now, though, I don't know what to do."

Her worry, her despair, her uncertainty, it's all infectious and mingling with his natural assumption that he's a fucking idiot to make the most toxic cocktail possible.