Yes, you are, Ford thought, but he wasn't going to say anything about it one way or another. It was too intimate for their limited acquaintance, and he'd already pushed a boundary by saying it in the first place. The best thing he could do now, he figured, was keep on as though nothing was amiss and give the other man time to work through it on his own. Before he did, though, he took one more step forward and reached out to gently squeeze Macnair's upper arm, in the same way he had a moment ago. He thought this would be alright, since Macnair had held on to his shoulder a moment ago. After just half a second he let go, turning his attention to the jewelry box in his hands.

"So you've got a few options at this point," he explained. "If you don't need to get into this for a while, you can just leave it sealed and starve it out. You can't open it now except with magic, so it should be safe unless someone intentionally lets it out. It can take a while for them to go away, though — decades, sometimes, but it's quicker if you can put it in a room where there's a lot of laughter and no fear for them to soak up. Of course, if you need the jewelry box, I can take it in to the Ministry on Tuesday and transfer the boggart over to another container," he continued. Ford doubted the jewelry box was in very high demand, since it had been collecting dust in an attic, but it might have had sentimental value. If it was meant to stay in the family as an heirloom, someone might take exception to it serving as a boggart prison for the next twenty or thirty years.