No wonder she was so tired, having been up since the middle of the day before. Keeping herself on a regular schedule was becoming more difficult with so little going on in her life, alternating between sleeping most of a day and staying up for a couple at a time. It was only coincidence that she was planning to sleep at a normal hour that night. "Done. Yes," she confirmed, not yet trying to get back to her feet.
"At Dorian's," she informed him, "same direction that you live." Or maybe it was the complete opposite direction, Mabelle still had a shaky comprehension of Paris' geography despite never having lived anywhere else, only vaguely remembering which part of the city Mobius' written instructions lead her the day she delivered the knife to Michel. "Or I'll just give it to you next time," she left the option open, suddenly aware that inviting him back so late at night might have implications she didn't mean. "I think I rather just sleep here instead, I don't think I can carry everything back." She wasn't necessarily asking him for help, plenty content to deal with it on her own, but she wasn't going to turn it down if he chose to interpret it that way.