If we're going to call that a smile. Johnny finds the effect wholly unnerving.

"Not the book," he says derisively, with an unveiled air of keep up, stupid. "The house. The idea of it. It's not just a house, like... a physical place, a single spot. It's more. It's so much more. It's a concept, a mythology unto itself, a lie, and a monster as old as fuckin time, probably. It cuts right into the earth, just like it cut into me. You can't even fuckin imagine."

He's losing the patience for this now. Getting twitchy. One of his legs jiggles involuntarily under his grip. "We done here?"