"Typhoid," she said when the woman had finished her pantomime. Point taken; just like little mousy Mary had suspected the stranger could be a danger and a threat. Well, so could Typhoid. But she also wasn't stupid. An assessment of the situation and the woman in the doorway told Typhoid that, unarmed, a fight wouldn't go in her favor unless the bloody bitch came out. It took a lot to draw her out and Typhoid wasn't willing to put up with the effort and pain to get there. Mary wouldn't survive it. Typhoid was an opportunist and here was a golden opportunity; an ally to get her out of this damned place.
She rose slowly with her hands out to show she was no threat though the smirk never left her face. "What're you doing here?" she asked next, still curious but a little less hostile.