She'd said it mostly on impulse, not really considering the broader implications - though the gentle squeeze and somewhat awed thanks remind her that the Balladeer probably hasn't had many opportunities to make friends before. Not while hopping through time and conversing mostly with murderers, poor fellow. Even if he had friends before, when he was a child (he was a child once, right?), how often could he possibly see them while working? And it seemed like he was almost always working.

It must have been a very lonely sort of life. No wonder he was so cheerful about landing in Manhattan.

Well. He has at least one friend, now, and she is glad of that, too. Greta runs her thumb in a little arc over his fingers. "We'll be all right," she says, almost wonderingly, because for the first time since her arrival, she thinks she believes it.