[Boone walks past Deacon a few moments before the whisper, only to stop at a nearby mirror and lower his shades to check out his own face. His hands look a lot like Deacon's head, transparent and shiny up to just past the wrists. He's moving them somewhat gingerly, as though afraid they'll snap if he does too much with them, but they haven't fallen off yet so there's that small comfort. Since it doesn't seem like there's any part of his face that looks different, he doesn't spend all that long checking his own reflection. He puts his shades back on and flexes his hands again. Then Deacon addresses him.

Well, it could be worse. He could look like this guy.]

No.

[His eyes linger on the door to the restroom.]

You mean out there?