"You being nearly unique in that respect," he agrees, fingering its crooked, much-abused bridge.
When Minerva speaks, he doesn't stare through her with his suddenly tunneling, whitening vision, or snarl, bite off, or even snark anything like I need no reminding of your hands-off policies, or run. If he goes a little pale or pinched around the lips or eyes, well, one can only do so much about one's circulation; his face doesn't change otherwise. He just says, "No? Well, perhaps we'll bring you back some chips, as Rodolphus says, to accompany all these fish," and gets the hell out of there as fast as he can without appearing to hurry.