That is certainly not the reaction he'd been going for. He'd expected exasperation, or maybe even a moment of scandalized shock at the idea that he--Francis--would ever partake in such a terrible activity. And then it should've been a laugh, or at least a smile, before getting back on track.

But that is not Francis' reaction, and James is thrown for a moment by the color leaving the other man's face; he draws back in his chair, very confused and very concerned, and unable to keep both from showing--if just briefly, before he remembers it isn't just himself and Francis here--on his face. It wasn't what he'd said, was it? No, it shouldn't have been, at least not in itself; they were certainly to the point of joking about dinner parties and James' stories, in fact the last time they'd spoken of them, back home, it had been Francis who--

Oh. Perhaps that's why. Maybe he had accidentally brought up a bad memory, whether that one or another, perhaps even one that happened here and which James is completely unaware of. Or it could be something else entirely, some other association, something that imparts a different meaning to the comment. Whatever it is, James isn't sure, and so he isn't sure what to do to fix the mistake, or what feels like a sudden chasm between them.

If it were just them, he might've simply asked, careful but direct. But it isn't, and so he won't; instead he tries to ignore that he's accidentally upset Francis enough that he won't meet his gaze, resists the urge to glance toward Raju and see whatever his reaction might be, and indeed considers asking one of those easier, simpler questions.

But eventually, what he settles on is just slightly different.

"What is most important to know?"

It's an open question that either Raju or Francis can take, and one that is hopefully safe enough.