It's fine. Bruce has few terminal allergies, fit as he is, but platitudes are on the list. He doesn't often expect a response when he says things like that.

"Mm." One eyebrow up. Mm sounds an awful lot like That isn't strictly what you were supposed to be doing, but maybe also like, It must have been fine since I didn't catch any news stories about the Louvre being accidentally kicked in.

"She's sweet."

Is she.

Amendment, as Bruce turns back to look at the derelict mansion again: "Or she was, once."

He wonders if it disturbs Diana to be so easily understood by a mortal man, and one so spiritually acidic at that. He doesn't wonder if she regrets having felt safe enough with him to share the tale of her lost love - he knows that. He should have told her about Selina, probably, or even Talia. But he didn't. He told her he understood her and then saved that knowledge in reserve as something to hurt her with later.

Clark should leave. Get out of this quicksand before he's too deep.

"But now it's bugging you that you might not be throwing a real punch, huh."