He reads the words, quickly, and then smiles at her. So many people don't really take in the city for what it was--a testament to survival--and he thinks that's a shame. He's glad someone, at least, appreciates it.

"I could think a' some improvements, but for what it is," he doesn't end the sentence, but just shrugs in a good-natured way. A minute later he pats one of his pockets, making sure his haul is still safe and secure. He whistles, a few notes that make him conspicuous rather than casual.