Bahorel throws his arms up. "You warn against saying too much, then complain that I've not said enough. I'm hardly likely to vanish here. You may certainly send Joly this way if you want; only I'll answer if he asks me more. As far as I can. Didn't I answer you? " He rubs his eyes; he's been doing entirely too much reading lately. "No, you want me to tell you how the universe works. I don't know. I hardly believe it does. Yes, talk to Joly; that's his sort of study."

And his own study around the matter is evidently not something he's going to be able to explain. He rolls up the other papers scattered on his desk into a rough ball, looks blankly at the walls for a moment, and then tosses himself backwards into the chair hard enough to make it creak, and hurls all the paper over his head.

"And definitely a fireplace" he says calmly, while the paper bounces and flutters down. "Tell me what he thinks of; he's sure to have a good theory."