We'd brought him in over night, since the garage was going to be pretty cold, but we put him back out there for today, since plumbers and furniture delivery would be yet more Scary Noisy Big People Things that he doesn't need to deal with.
In my few moments of communing with him, I get the impression that he does know that we're working for his benefit and is trying to be as close to gracious as he can be about it, but it stings his pride to be manhandled this way. When we put the separator bars into the cage to confine him to one end or the other, he gives us these sidelong looks that say, "And just what do you think I'm going to do? Honestly. You're huge, and I'm declawed. Don't add insult to injury!"
I haven't handled him directly, but I can feel my allergies reacting to his presence. It's not bad, it's just the occasional random itch of a particular variety that only comes when I'm around animals, but it's definitely there.
Anyway, he's back in the cage and out in the garage for now, and we've got the windows open to air out the place a bit (he's somewhat whiffy). More bulletins as events warrant.
 Note: We don't actually know that he's declawed; for that matter, we don't actually know that he's a "he". But we haven't seen any claws, and he's definitely cowed by other cats. If the "pampered lapcat" theory is true, being declawed would certainly be in line with that.