Well, she had seen through at least part of the ruse. Regardless of what she'd seen or not, there were certain things that needed to stay private for the sake of his own sanity. ...and perhaps pride, not that there was a lot of that left.
He stalled for a moment longer, fidgeting anxiously, then forced himself to turn and keep going, with the pace and posture of a condemned man on his way to the gallows.

On the surface, his room was much like Nerva's: bare, clean, nothing out of the ordinary. His agitation only seemed to grow, however, as he stooped to reach under the bed for the neat pile of clothes that he'd stored there. He seemed to hang down there just a second too long, one hand surreptitiously pushing something farther under as he pulled the clothing out and straightened again. All right, done, time to go!! Nothing more to see here.