It's never too late to be afraid someone is going to cock something up.

[Peter corrects, ruefully, taking the cigarette from him.]

It's just too late to do anything about it.

[Like hydroplaning suddenly through a busy intersection, hitting black ice and having to lift your hands off the wheel. Peter will worry about Bond right up to the very last second and beyond.

But he knows it's futile. He takes a long drag of the cigarette, smiling faintly at himself. The paranoia gets to everyone, in the end.]

I'll see you tomorrow, with Tarr.