Oliver sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I dinnaken. I jus' - well, hell." Oliver stopped and glanced back up at George. "I jus', I dinna thin' Emilie is goin' tae be safe in France. Too many people there ken abou' her, ken tha' she's British. I jus' dinnae thin' she'll be safe. I'd love tae bring her tae London and take ye up on yer offer, but I cannae get tae France wi'ou' flyin'. I can't get a portkey or apparate and I was hopin' ye'd ken a way for me tae get her from France?" Oliver hated putting himself on the line like that, humbling himself down and asking favors. Still, if he couldn't ask favors from George, who could he ask them from?