He wasn't so clever. He couldn't imagine that freefall or that feeling of being cast out; it was nothing like what Aziraphale had experienced--that had been normal, mortal. Perhaps his grandfather had thought him something vile, demonized him when he left, but he could not unmake what Aziraphale was. Not like God.

"Oh, Anthony... You are. You are very much good enough."

He couldn't understand, but he could be mad on Anthony's behalf.

"Well. He didn't deserve you to begin with. If God doesn't want you--that is His loss. Seems to me God thinks a great many of us are unworthy of his love or salvation. I, for one, have never held His opinion in very high regard."

Unsure, he looked down at the bow on the basket and twisted the handle between his fingers.

"I am sorry...that you had to experience that."