The Moros holds one hand up in a gesture that says "no" or "stop." "No, no, of course not," he says to her, getting back into his typical don't-meet-the-eyes-and-nearly-mumble mode. "I can keep the Mysterium's secrets."
Three can keep a secret if two are dead, he thinks, and nearly shushes himself. He half-bows from his waist to the Curator, and leaves the Museum.
Time to hit the Circle and work out aggression against paper targets and punching bags.