Remy takes them, looking them over carefully before picking out a middling sized one. He also picks out a few more before offering them back. "Dis'll do nicely, I t'ink." The others were for...spares. Just in case.

Then he gets down, eye-level with the lock again, straightening out the paperclip so that he could insert one end of it. It doesn't take much work, given that the lock is so simple. It's only about ten seconds before there's a click and he's able to turn the handle. "Not'in' to it," he says, grinning as he straightens up. "An' if dere's one t'ing I've learned? People like us don' retire. Oh, we try. But dere's always somet'in' or ot'er dat'll come up an' drag you back in."

And he means being an X-Man just as much as he means being a thief.