It’s like the girl just handed him a Christmas present; Strange visibly brightens, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “A library? Oh, that does help.” It’d practically be a vacation: a chance to dig into some proper reading without having to constantly break away to handle problems like aforementioned giant eyeballs. When he continues, there’s a crisp, businesslike cast to the tone of his voice which sounds more like the doctor than the magician:

“It’s a wise precaution, anyhow. I’m not an infectious disease specialist, but it’s a sensible measure. The last time I went through this sort of thing, I was imprisoned in a plexiglass cage for quarantine and observation, in case something in my physiology was toxic to the universe I’d crossed into— which, y’know, I understand, but it was a huge inconvenience at the time. So it could be worse. The Gallows sounds alright.”

He sounds surprisingly blasé about the prospect of hopping universes, but, well, you get accustomed to weird shit as a sorcerer.