Now that Connor thought about it, the writer's accent did not match any of those that could be found on the British isles, or at least those that he knew of. Her mention of New York was what made Connor guess that she was an American, and that simply added to the mystery of their presence in the room. Whoever, or whatever had brought them here certainly made sure that everyone came from different parts of the world, and if Connor was willing to entertain the idea, different periods of time as well. He had decided that the clothes everyone else wore looked far too strange and different to be from any part of the world that he knew; even the French probably did not dress the way the other two did.

Still, Connor decided to keep that theory to himself for now. It sounded ridiculous and silly even in his head, and the last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself. There were still parts of the world unknown to him, like the deepest parts of Siberia, the central Asian plains and Canada. That made for a lot of places the other two could have come from. "Ah, I apologize. I haven't heard of that book." Connor said sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "I don't think there was a bookstore on the part of the Shetlands I lived in, and we only do get books every once in a while from the steamers that roll through every week or so."

He cleared his throat. "But New York? I hear that it's more Irish than Ireland nowadays. Can't say I'm surprised. The English are doing grand ol' job in making us leg it for the New World." He said with a grin, and was about to ask about what the writer had meant when she said that she was going to school to be an accountant. As far as Connor knew, that was something you learned as an apprentice, not something you could master by simply flipping through a book. However, he noticed that her attention had be drawn by another person who had woken up.

The other girl looked terrified, though Connor could not say he blamed her. He could tell that she too had come from somewhere far away - the newspapers and tabloids had been filled with news about the ongoing war in some nation in the middle east, and if he ignored all the traits that were obviously added in for propaganda purposes, the girl more or less fitted the description of someone from the region. Or, at least according to Fleet Street. "Don't be too afraid, we're all friends here." Connor said, though he kept his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword bayonet. He nodded to the other two with him. "They haven't tried to lynch me for being Irish, so I'll vouch for them."