[Well it's nice of him to let her flee.] I don't deserve anyone's thanks. I don't want them.
Clearly.
[Meg let out a humorless chuckle.] Preachin' to the choir, Clarence. [She jerked her head, motioning it was okay for him to leave.] Go on, get out of here. Cut a rug or something. I won't complicate the rest of your evening.