He blinks. And blinks some more. Surely she has to breath in there somewhere.

He laughs kindly. How is his name, indeed.

"Not nearly as pretty as Sophie, but I hope mine is good enough. You may call me Mr. Fell." Aziraphale offers a warm hand to shake before suggesting, as if imparting a secret, "May I suggest the Great Hall instead? It will be a little warmer, and far enough from the living quarters that I think it shouldn't disturb anyone's sleep. There are tables and food we might knock over, but during this time of day, I suspect those who are there will be willing to share the space."