"Of course. I'm sorry." And he is, that knowing empathy heavy in his voice. He knows all too well the quiet horror of watching patients die around you, despite everything you do. "There are still occasional outbreaks of plague in my time, though I've never dealt with that particular pathogen directly, thank God. It isn't quite the terror it once was."

Something dawns on him, and makes a face that's more a grimace than a smile. "The London I know is five and a half million souls squeezed into some six hundred or so square miles, and consumption, cholera, and influenza tend to be more of a concern than plague, but it would be devastating if it resurfaced now, particularly in the poorer parts of the city."