Aziraphael looks a little hurt - and again not at all certain that he's done the right thing.

"Crowley, I don't know what - I didn't say because it wasn't even on my radar as a possibility. The winter trip wasn't my choice to make; we were going to Kingston, and then - we didn't."

He looks away, toward the sunlight streaming through the windows, and takes a slow breath.

"We can still go to Kingston, if you'd prefer. It's much closer from here than from London. And it's probably at least as warm."

He tries for an encouraging smile.