"Jesus Christ-- The poor world. I can't wait to see it deal with an older Margie." He was almost amused by the idea but, somehow, sounded a bit worried. He understood an inkling of who/what Lyra really was. It made him wonder what that made his daughter. Could she grow? Would she grow for a bit and then stop growing?

He shoves those thoughts aside, opting to be cheerful for the last hour or so of final call since the night has been good, Nancy is back, and it's been an alright week. Why not celebrate it by being less of a downer?

"Ah, thanks. Sometimes I worry that I'm doing somethin' kinda funny with her with me as her pops. This ain't the most conventional lifestyle." Because… He leans and pretends to look around, whispering conspiratorially to her, "Don't tell the patrons I told you this so soon but-- I live above the pub here since it's where my family and I grew up. She's there right now with a friend of mine, snuggled up and snoozing like a june bug."

He pulls back and gives her a wink, almost imagining the grumbles the others would say when they realised the 'secret' of the pub they had to learn after only a while was told to Nancy so soon. He trusted her, Margie liked her. Seems only right to let her know something crucial if she's looking after the girl when he and others can't. Call is an offer of trust.