The answer to that question took no great thought. "Home," came the reply. Though, that in itself wasn't much of an answer, so he amended, "Back to Whitechapel. London." His gaze flicked to her upturned hands - clearly a gesture meant to show him she meant no harm, though ironic in that he usually did the same thing before gutting a person.

Sliding the glasses back up the bridge of his nose to their proper place, he angled his head again, this time looking past the girl and to the surrounding buildings. "If I may, where am I?" His eyes drifted to her again. "And who are you?" Usually in the presence of a lady, he would follow at least the most basic rules of courtesy - it was unbecoming of an English gentleman such as he to do otherwise. But, at least for the moment, he saw no reason to tip his hat to someone who very well could be his abductor.