"He certainly trusted a drunk with it," Childermass scoffs, thoughts briefly going to Vinculus. Another poor madman who deserved better, perhaps, though he still made it seem so simple, as if it never bothered him. He gives his head a shake and straightens up, looking at Strange again.

"But we'll never know, will we? He's gone again, taking everything he knew with him apart from whatever he wrote over that damnable prophecy of his."