The clockwork veteran stiffened at the lad's request for further conversation. It was something he'd rather hoped to avoid. But then Verne tried to think of it as more of a status report and he was able to relax a bit.
He nodded curtly as was the polite fashion some hundred or so years past as he tried to remember which one was 'Ingrid'."Of course. Master Quick, is it? For such a gracious Host, I have three. Minutes, that is."
Verne had meant the remark to be humorous though his deliver was unwieldy and likely over-serious, since by he wasn't a jovial person by nature. It was something Gaston would say, a socialite even among the horrors of war. It felt alien coming from his own lips however, as Verne himself was unused to socializing with mortals or at least those who had once been mortals.
"Sorry, lad. Take as long as you wish," Verne realized his gaff at once, "Not lad. My apologies, Sir. Or young Sir, rather. Or... uh... I'm sorry. You had questions, Master Quick?" Verne hoped emphasizing the purpose of the conservation might distract from his uncomfortable fumbling with honorifics.