Marcus reads for what is not a quick amount of time, but a thorough one. The crossed out line seems to gain some inspection, the note lifted higher, but otherwise abandoned and moved on from.

"It warrants attention," he says once she speaks up and he is done—assurance, maybe, for her actions, or simply an announcement of intent, which could also be assuring. A brief glance to the work he'd been about to carry out, but he doesn't take that back into hand as he folds the note back in half, looking back to her. "Thank you for bringing this to me."

A beat. He should dismiss her. Go find this Tav before the evening draws in. Instead—

"Madame de Cedoux related to me your conversation," without bothering to search about for some graceful segue. Or any at all. The folded note is slipped into a pocket. "As to her anchor."