Lambert inhales sharply, looking at Childermass questioningly — but with the group dispersing, there’s one quick thing he has to say.

“If anyone from the Carnival wants to keep talking privately, I’ll be in that corner with a bottle of ale,” he calls. God, does he need that drink. “That includes you, Strange!”

Though with the magician already heading away to obviously sulk, and his last words — Lambert isn’t sure he’s in any mood to speak with them further anyway. With that, he’ll let Childermass tug him away.