It's a curious thing, the closeness of Louis' mind. Daniel is torn between shivering away from it, seventy years worth of privacy instincts leaning on him, and pressing closer to investigate. No doubt Louis can sense his dilemma, but they don't have time to dump into lessons that Daniel is past the point of circling back to.

A moment laugh, though, at the idea of the Talamasca taking him. Doesn't elaborate.

(Where was he supposed to go? Louis had abandoned him, symbolically destroyed what they'd worked on, labored over, suffered over! for those weeks, and Daniel was alone. It was call in his current stuffy 'hosts' or burn. He wanted a book and to live, and finally, he wasn't just making manipulative sad eyes about it.)

"Let's go."

An answer to both.

He thinks he's figured out that surveillance can't quite see him in the alcove just behind the door, and so after opening it, he pauses there for a while. Considering. Assuming, hoping, people are moving to intercept one way, while they're planning on heading elsewhere. To the elevator, then, and Daniel presses the button, waits, enters, presses another button, and then considers how to get out of the box while it's moving.