The morphine was good, she told him, she had no complaints there. It occurred to her, after his last question, that the time for overshare was over. As tolerant as he was being towards all the occult confessions, she didn't really want to admit that she'd traded in one demon for another (even if this one was a "good" demon, relatively speaking). That probably wouldn't go over so well. No reason to push it and ruin what seemed to be the most amicable conversation they'd had in years.
She mulled over what exactly to say and stalled for time by taking Tony's abandoned task, trying to finger comb her hair and then twist it (unsuccessfully) into a braid. Eventually she answered with, "Absolutely, I trust the magic and the man using it." Her certainty brooked no argument, and she hoped for none. It was almost a relief that Tony didn't seem to remember Daimon; maybe he wouldn't remember what Wanda had told him about her ex at a particularly distraught moment. At least he hadn't believed her at the time, because now she felt guilty for divulging Daimon's diabolical origin. It wasn't her secret to share, and she shouldn't have done it.