The witcher visibly startles at that, not having the benefit of seeing that question coming, for all he'd been joking about it not that long ago. He'll squint at Childermass quizzically for a few long seconds after that, like he's waiting for the punchline, for the magician to burst out laughing (however uncharacteristic), or for Strange to pop out from behind a bush sing-songing about secret boyfriends.

Given none of those things materialize, and given that Childermass is so damn blase about it all...

"Which part?" Lambert leers, cocking a hip. "You're going to have to be specific." Something in his expression remains stubbornly defiant -- it's too late to pretend to be unaffected, but as being crass has served to annoy Childermass sufficiently in the past, maybe it will do the same now, as well.