Marcus catches the supposedly-untold name and it stops him, settles him a little: good, that'll do as a start. He hesitates, considers just walking out, but — he's still curious. And fine, if Bruce is only going to give him the half-said version of what's going on, well — maybe it's better than nothing. He grips the back of his own neck and sighs and says, "Yeah, it's — nothing. Place like this, makes me prickly. Claustrophobic. Paranoid, maybe. Too many portraits, too many people, if you knock something over or spill someone's wine you're out a couple hundred." Thousand, more like, he corrects himself mentally with a grimace. He carries on, turns around slightly. "You don't feel a bit like you're living in a mausoleum, ever? Antecedents glowering down at you the whole time."