"Her whims?" John repeats with an incredulous undercurrent of laughter. "She's not a--a bloody sea witch. And if she does try to get me in trouble -- regarding money in my account that I've used -- then the less you know about it, the safer you'll be. You needn't 'deal with it' at all."

It's only after that little outburst that John realizes Martin's shrunk in on himself a little. Christ. Just like old times. John sighs quietly, then makes a loose gesture towards the envelope. "That is what needs dealing with," he says, at a much more reasonable volume.