What was she talking about? “The Bentley?” He asked. “No, it has done nothing to me. It's this sodding City.” For effect, he looked up at the sky, as if the City might just acknowledge him in some way. Aziraphale might always insist that everything was part of God's ineffable plan, but it was becoming Crowley's experience that this City had it's own uneffable plan.
It was really frustrating for him that he had very little control or free-will here. If he had any control at all his fri... his comp... the sodding angel wouldn't be gone. Dammit all.