He pretends to something like a pout, giving her the least wounded look an adult man can manage when he's helped someone find amusement in something he was (jestingly) serious about. "I did, yes! See, isn't it charming? How can the train not like someone who's this friendly?"

The irony being his utter unawareness of the concept of emojis or anything of that nature. He turns his notebook back his way, looks down at the smiling face, and breathes out in a dramatic sigh.

"Its going to be very difficult to manage if we're not allowed any freedom in how our messages send..."