"Oh, that is doubtful," Javert interjected with a distracted hiss to his coat collar, referring to Carden's quip that he was handling the shock quite well. Then in a stronger voice, he resumed, "I put myself through the motions by force of habit. I will not gawk like a buffoon with a bare arse whilst I boggle over what sort of science has devised these contraptions. That attracts unwanted attentions. Looking decent, behaving decent, and buttoning myself up was a bigger and more useful priority than that."

Heavy postulating, self-reflection, and doubt was a thing best left for time alone; he pushed himself through the motions to get to his designated room before he allowed himself to fall to pieces, just as he pushed himself to take a seat at this restaurant before he permitted himself the luxury of a slip in his mien. At least alone, it was only himself that stood to hurt from whatever he chose to do as a result of his deep thoughts.

"I would rather not discuss futures at this table," he said slowly, and he laid a somewhat pained grimace on Carden. "The Americas, fine. I know about the Americas. The Future! That requires more drink than I care to have tonight."