There was a certain impulse, to blurt out her name and begin to talk, but she merely bit down on her lower lip and dipped her head a little in apology. She couldn't say a thing, not now, and she wondered what exactly to do. With a pen and paper, she could shakily write out her name, but then her nationality as a French woman would be clear.
Xavière walked up to the man to hand him the bag before bowing her head again in slight apology for not stating her name, and folded her hands togther as she looked up at him.