[ The corner of his lips curve up in a quick, little smile. ]

Perhaps I'll become the patron saint for them one day. [ He chuckles; his shoulders bouncing a little in amusement. ] If such saints could be made that way.

[ His shoulders roll as he says: ] Anyway -- [ Paper held in one hand and pen still dancing in the air with the other, he persists: ] -- my point is as it is. [ Given some of the things that have already happened with no recourse, he doesn't see any reason why he can't keep testing the waters with others acting as the metaphorical stones. Tossing them in to see if one of them strikes a fish. Hm, he thinks the metaphor may have gotten away from him. ]

No need to add further stress to a stressful situation.