Luckily, Irene is no Sherlock, and perfectly comfortable with physical contact- in fact, she's an incredibly tactile person. She glances down and smiles at Martha.

The completely maddening unexpectedness becomes the mundane...that sounds a lot like her life in general, really.

"Oh, yes. I've noticed that before. Life's always mad, I think- but switching from one sort of mad-" running from the police, false names, disguises, guns and codes and detectives and millions of pounds lost in seconds "-to another-" eldritch horrors, the Fog, a police state, captivity "-is rather jarring."