No. NO! I’m not! I… [Mr. Ashworth is quite intent on defending himself from these besmirching accusations.] It’s not me! I haven’t… I--I think they’ve done something to… My paper, it’s wrong! Look! LOOK!

[First, he thrusts the offending newspaper at the passenger on his right (who leans away while doing her best to ignore him) and then to the passenger on his left (who is asleep, or doing a very good job of feigning to be). Finding no support from those closest to him, he looks around frantically at the rest of the passengers. Unfortunately, they are no help. A few gawk and mock, while most quickly avert their eyes.

Defeated, he looks up in frustration at the two people that he’s certain are the cause of his distress, even though he has no idea how they’ve managed it.]

Please stop.

[Guenièvre takes (some) pity on him.]

I think maybe this trip has been too stressful for you, hmm? Why don’t you lean back and rest your eyes now.

[She reaches out to gently push Mr. Ashworth back in his seat. When he visibly recoils from her touch, she withdraws her hand but remains leaned into his personal space.]

Close your eyes and relax. I am sure this will all be over soon.

[Gwen glances back at Silver, trying to gauge if he plans to drop the illusion. The prank—while fun—seems to have served its purpose.]