Miss Lupescu took Cassian's hesitation as healthy wariness of a stranger, nothing more, and she was quite pleased to see this trait in him. If his partner were anything like him they would all get along well enough. Maybe not splendidly, but there had yet to be an occasion for all of that and she wasn't one to particularly enjoy being around others, anyhow.
She regarded him coolly for a moment as if to make sure what she said next rang true: "I am pleased to meet you, also."
There was silence for what an average person may have considered an uncomfortable length of time while she observed him—not staring, mind; she was a great many things, but rude wasn't among the number—until, finally: "I haven't been here long," she didn't want to give him an exact timeline, "but where I am from is not like this." Her hand barely lifted to gesture at the tavern around them. "There are more types of people, for one thing, and for another there are more secrets. It is," she looked almost pained at the memory, "was an exhausting way to live. This way is not better. It is just different."
The last was said with the finality of someone who had seen too much of the world and was, frankly, a bit fed up with it, and she lifted her stein to him in salute before taking a mouthful of the bitter stuff and swallowing it down.