Eames' expression doesn't falter — he'd hardly have made it this far if he couldn't keep a straight face every time someone edged a little close to something he may or may not have done. He's still staring at Lancelot, because he doesn't feel that his question's been answered.

"What about the risk to yourself?" He asks, electing not to raise an eyebrow at Nancy when she says she'll be on her best behaviour. "Going to bat for a Midnight witch can't endear Sylvia to you any."