She certainly wasn't simple-minded, but Mabel was somebody easily entertained by internal sources rather than needing to seek anything far outside of herself. There was very little that surprised her, very little that pulled her interest enough to put forth any energy. She had liked her work, and as repetitive as it could be it was also always different. There was nothing glamorous about it or her other hobbies, being shot was probably the most interesting thing people would find about her otherwise drab and reclusive lifestyle. But there was always a lot that Mabel didn't show, things that even... the self-proclaimed consulting detective she still didn't know the name of included in his quick analysis of her.
And that straightforward summary was enough to cause her to blink, not exactly in surprise of how he put together any of that information because none of it was exactly hidden, and not with any surprise of his ability to do so because the man himself already revealed he was a detective. That's the sort of thing they were supposed to do, right? She was admittedly rather clever and observative herself, but only with the unliving as she cared very little for people before that point. And most of her interest so far had been only in taking in the details of the house, disregarding her potential housemate for the most part because if she stuck to her usual patterns of living then he'd be little consequence to her. Yet now all her attention was on him, curious and intrigued despite herself. Who exactly was this man?
"Let me think on it," she countered, even with the strong urge to agree in that moment. "Clearly you know enough about me, but I'm at a disadvantage because there's hardly anything I know about you." Like his name, for starters. "And I haven't even seen the kitchen."