[ Though she can't say what sort of illness he has, she is glad their worlds share illness in common even if they do not share Britannia. She looks him over a moment more, almost as if trying to gauge what he's thinking. He's peculiar and there is obvious pity in her motions; not sympathy, nothing as personal as that, but the distant feeling of 'that's too bad'.
Being polite is not in her agenda; keeping someone with a potentially contagious disease out of her apartments is, however. No matter how obviously intelligent they may be. ]
I see. If you aren't contagious we'll see if we have any doctors among our number that can lend you a hand; it'd be a waste for anyone with a brain to die here.