"Whose home I'm staying in is no longer any concern of yours," she stated with definitiveness, no intentions of being intimidated out of another place to stay. "Dorian was actually my first painting instructor," she admitted after some hesitation, knowing that any mention of her privileged life before the Revolution was a touchy subject, but more concerned for the old man than herself if association with her would compromise him. But Michel's problem was with her, she doubted he'd drag somebody else into it. "I'm really not all that sorry if my attachment to living disappoints you, but it seems losing a couple fingers really isn't that life threatening."
Folding her arms tightly across her chest, Mabelle turned her head away from Michel in blatant refusal to acknowledge him, staring back at the painting she was before the interruption. That was usually enough to make somebody go away. But there was still something she had to make clear. "Don't bother showing up."