[Aziraphale's eyebrows crept higher and higher up his forehead as he watched the mouse make a small loop out of a length of string so that he could carry the remaining matches with him, taking note of the very tiny hat and outfit and the comfortably familiar - and therefore rather antiquated - manner of speaking. Did rodents have a Victorian era? Was there a mousey industrial revolution? He supposed it all depended on what world the small fellow had come from. He doubted mice back home walked around wearing clothes when the humans and human-shaped beings weren't looking. But then he also hadn't realized that dolphins were mammals until fairly recently, so-...]

Unfortunately, that seems to be a common problem around this place. Er...the 'narrowly-avoided trouble,' not using matches to stave off hypothermia. That's a rather more recent development. [He instinctively nods his head in lieu of returning the bow, smiling in greeting before Basil's normal home rings a bell in his head, and he finds it difficult to keep the bemused smile off of his face.] It's a pleasure, Basil. My name is Aziraphale. And this may seem like a strange question, but...the name "Doyle" wouldn't mean anything to you, would it?