Jacob's attention isn't on the tablets any more, his eyes turned to Marty, reading him. The tension in his shoulders, the angle of his spine, the slight hesitation before he speaks. Whatever that stone says, he doesn't know, doesn't know if he'd trust it even if he'd been able to make out the words, but he thinks he's a good enough judge of people.

Okay okay, he was round about Pearl, but he's not wrong about Henry, or Roth, or any of the rest of them.

And he's good enough to know that Marty is hiding something. He just radiates it right now, and Jacob cocks his brow.

Then Marty says it. Over a hundred years. That's a bloody long time. That's why it was hard to picture him as an American, despite the accent. A hundred years! Everything has changed in that time. The American war is probably, hopefully over. The fashion for top hats probably is too, mores the pity. It's almost unbelievable...

And its enough to make you want to hold back on telling someone. Jacob let's his own tension fade and he laughs, patting Marty on the shoulder.

"I can see why you thought you had to keep that to yourself. It's a long time. Don't worry. It's... it's alright. I won't ask about anything. Messing up the future, right? Anything you tell me, I might try to change, blah blah blah the end of the world? Something along those lines."