"I'm a. Gift. Shoppist. Or, I was. At the National Art Gallery in London." He'd like to protest against the insult, but he just kind of takes it. The only way to make the world less of a cruel place is to not be cruel to other people.

Wringing his hands, Steven swallows and gestures towards the hallway with several identical cabin doors with a tilt of his head.

"You'll find Mr. Pleasant down that corridor, on the right. He can-- tell you everything." Steven twists his hands in the hem of his shirt, twisting and creasing the fabric. "I'll be going now." Steven sulks and tries to slink away quietly.