Abigail nodded in response to Montag and with a slight gesture of her hand put her red locks away from her face and behind her ear; looking back at Montag she opened her mouth to reply to him, but before she could out of nowhere Mary seemed to just reappear between the pair again - with a rushing tone in her voice and a quick explanation of her unexpected return to follow. Abigail slightly frowned and cleared her throat meanwhile, sipping whiskey which she forgot about once the talk started. Still wet from the rain outside, she sipped the whiskey mostly in order to warm herself up from the clinging and sticky wet cold, the one which is the most dangerous to have around - the creeping coldness causing various illnesses able to lead you anywhere on the street, even into the grave. She could not deny though the fact that she liked the taste of the whiskey, and specifically this one served to her. As well as the aftertaste of it was helping her head to feel lighter and thus less stressed. 
She never allowed herself to go hard onto the bottle. If there is a suffering to endure through, she has to come through it with her head clear. 

The explanation coming from Mary meanwhile was simple enough - the pair of watches, given to both her and Montag would make the timer until the moment of the hit. It was a nice detail and a very convenient thing to have around, Abigail thought, which would help them both to track the time. She held the watch in her hands, carefully flipping them around, tapping at them with the tip of her fingernail - for no real purpose really. It was a really peculiar thing - in a way more sense than it would seem for a bystander - a simple pocket watch was somewhat mesmerizing to watch at and touch to, it felt warm with its faded gold of a material and it for some reason was just heartwarming to have this thing close enough. The way Mary addressed the watches didn’t help of course - it only made the impression of a thing to look and feel somewhat like a thing of being some sort of an animal. Or else.

The way the clocks worked confused Abigail at first, the watches despite their old and rusty look probably had some very intricate mechanism under its cover, due to how the arms would move around - the idea of mechanism was the simplest one to explain the oddity of how accurately the arms of the watches would point up directly at the time present in here and now. Or at least around it - not that Abigail had watches on her own, but the precision on where the arms of the watches stopped fascinated her. She did not know much about physical science - physics that is, it was way out of her field of skill, so who knows what fascinating discovery was made?

She closed the watches after that though and tucked them in the inner pocket of her coat, noticing the glance of Montag being pointed at her and the watches which were in her hands a moment ago. Abigail raised her eyebrow looking at the detective, but once he explained himself she nodded in response: “[color=f26522]Aye, fai’ enough, mistah' Montag. I agree, we should find a bette’ place to talk[/color]”. With that said Montag pulled the empty pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and quickly scribbled down something there. Once the pack was given to her, she looked carefully at the words. The address. Fair enough. 

“[color=f26522]Same building the newspaper is at, mistah’ Montag? Convenient for yer line of job. All the rumors and news are at arm's length from yer office[/color]”, she said with a chuckle, an attempt to break some ice or just trying to lift the rather dim mood - dim due to the convoluted mystery they all have found themselves in due to this invitation. It was all weird, and strange; but it was worth coming through if they manage to save the innocent girl. “[color=f26522]And I got ya, mistah’ Montag. Meet ye in two hours. Don't worreh, I know this city betteh' than you might think of me. I won't ge' lost.[/color]”, she said and bid the man farewell with a slight nod, allowing him to leave. 

She spent some more time sitting in the bar before taking a leave herself - she had nowhere to go anyway for tonight, and the place was warm and tidy enough. She waited there for some time to make sure her clothes are more or less dry, as well as her hair; as well as thinking and pondering over all of the information that was given to her. It was strangely elusive to make some sense out of, due to the weird nature of this context - once she tried to gather up all that was said and given to her the puzzle was not coming together, and not like it had a missing detail, more like it was escaping the glance at it. She sighed deeply, thinking she is not smart enough for this kind of job. 

With the time passed, she gathered what little things she had with her in the first place and stepped outside of the bar again, aiming to go to the address Montag gave to her, in order to discuss the plan and set it into the motion.