The estate agent drifts in the eccentric taller man's wake, trying to juggle his own flashlight with the papers he has about the property in his hands.
"Ah, let's see... there are three restrooms... though they're not functional at present... but it is a marvellous opportunity. For an investor." The implication there is with money. Geoffrey does not look like a man with money. He more often looks like he doesn't even have a home.
"Mmm," he replies, noncommittally, and makes his way across the rotting carpet of the foyer that was once red at some point, his flashlight beam playing across the theatre doors. Trash scatters in his wake, and something may have moved at the far reaches of the light.