"Aren't you surprisingly genteel," Mabelle laughed while smoothing out her dress, more amused than disappointed by the lack of reaction that she was hoping for. So he wasn't outright repulsed by her, but she wasn't going to try reading into that. She never cared to be good with men, but she hadn't thought it would actually take too much skill to purposefully fail a seduction. Not that it was successful either (if that had been the goal), but she couldn't blame it on not being obvious enough when he called her out on her behaviour. If she had any sense of shame, perhaps she'd feel a bit embarrassed for being blatantly shot down from both directions, but Mabelle never had any delusions of herself as any sort of irresistible temptress.
"As concerned as I'm sure you are for those wrong sorts of men getting caught up unawares with a worthless demimondaine, it doesn't take much to help them realize their mistake," she casually insulted herself. He may not have been aware of her now-obsolete reputation, but she was undeniably talented at avoiding marriage, even if she was certain there was ever only interest because of her father's fortune. Which made Michel's apparently stubborn refusal to leave even more baffling, because getting rid of somebody who already disliked you should have been easier, not more difficult. "Besides, half the men here have already seen me naked," she openly admitted, not minding removing her clothing for art. Sitting still and doing nothing while somebody else did all the work paid well enough, and at least she wasn't having to completely rely on Dorian's kindness to get by. After all, there wasn't an overwhelming demand for female painters, and she lacked any other marketable skills even if the economy weren't in its current state of upheaval.