"Lucky me," Aziraphale smiled kindly, thinking, dinner and a show, upon seeing the bone-club. He said, instead, "Good food and good company. Or I will once it's served, I suppose. I'm quite all right, myself, thank you for your concern. How are you this day, my dear?" He was addressing Loki, but the question was vague and could apply to any at the table.

Bone-club. Aziraphale tried, desperately, to not stare in shock - he'd met, of the four visitors, all but the one with it, and although he really shouldn't be surprised he was. He was even unsure whether the polite thing to do was to ask about it, or simply leave it, tactfully.

He'd folded away his paper as soon as Anathema had joined him (and greeted each in return as they had sat down) but now his fingers itched to occupy themselves, so he took a menu and perused it.