With her out of the way, Vergil begins to side step his way around the door to head inside, but only gets so far as in front of the door itself when she stops him. He lets the door rest against his back.

"Hm?" Vergil looks from her to his books, frowning slightly before he connects her muttered comment to her question. He adjusts his hold on his small stack slightly. It's not exactly a defensive maneuver since he doesn't exactly anticipate she will make an attempt to snatch it away. (She isn't Dante, after all. Vergil would be even willing wager that despite her minor outburst upon almost striking him with the door, she's probably a touch more mature than Dante.) It's more a natural sort of wariness that he now holds them considering he had not exactly anticipated any of his books to spark conversation.

"Not yet," he says. "Is it of interest to you?"