Well, if she's going to be leaning against him like that, proper or not, lady or not, Porthos was going to rest a gloved hand on the small of her back. It seemed like the thing to do if he didn't want to feel like a prop for her to lean against - and, of course, to assure her that he far from minded the impropriety of their proximity.

"None of them containing motorcars," he confirmed, and stated, although the way he said that last word made it clear he was only hoping he was remembering it right, since it was completely foreign to him. He figured that, like Mademoiselle Dawn, she was from years ahead of him. That would explain the motorcars, and the way she talked about Musketeers, as if they were a thing of the past. It could have been disorienting, but Porthos wouldn't let it be. "But still worth the tale. We don't lead quiet lives."