Trying to cross her arms with little success, Mabelle instead awkwardly shrugged. The loosened hold was precisely what she didn't want, and apparently Michel was good at just that. "I don't know what you mean. You've made that implication before, with mixed signals. But you're the one that's been inconsistent and confusing," she accused, planning to stop there, but there was too much pent up frustration with the man to let him off easily.
Stepping even closer so she could lower her voice, having difficulty keeping up the already low volume, Mabelle continued. "You wanted me to leave your uncle alone, and I did so, admittedly only after you had to make your point clear. You hate me, so I've been careful to stay out of your way, not even out of fear and despite the fact I actually like you against my better judgment," she wasn't going to bother elaborating on the last bit, quickly moving on in order to avoid the subject.
"Yet now you won't even let me go, and I'd understand if you were trying to use this opportunity of us being alone to kill me or find some other way to make me miserable, but given you've already had that chance before and you're instead trying to negotiate when I'm certain your desire to learn to paint isn't really that sincere or you'd actually go to an artist you respect rather than one whose paintings you found worth burning, what am I even supposed to conclude?"
Mabelle had hardly taken a chance to breathe while speaking, pausing in order to do so, looking surprisingly calm for somebody so worked up. "So I'll take you up on your offer under two conditions. First, we're alternating lessons, because I'm not stupid and know you're the type of man to go back on his word if you felt so inclined, and I don't trust you. And secondly, you're going to tell me exactly what you want from me, and your answer better be satisfactory and not something like painting."