Abigail was certainly confused. Thomas appeared as if out of nowhere - a deus ex machina on his own, but unlike the ancient gods appearing at the last moment to give higher judgment, Thomas was seeking resolution - and as quick one as it was possible. His reputation was shaking and it was obvious to Abigail that despite the best of words he had to say to her, there was a certain desire to wrap things up as quickly as possible. That made him speak fast - faster than the girl could even respond, faster than she could think of a proper response. A few times she tried to part her lips to pronounce a simple “Mister Thomas” to make the man stop, or at least pause, but before she could - he would start a next line, barely making a break to even have a new dose of oxygen to fill his lungs. That was somewhat of a signature of a man used to talking publicly and for long periods of time like so.


And publicly speaking he still was, somewhat: even though they both have left the rally Abigail created, the crowd of poor and lost left behind, they were still surrounded by people all around, as they walked through the mansion. She could see them briefly - the glances of patience, yet ready to jump in at the first possible opening - in order to of course grab the man’s attention. Which could’ve been a reason for him to speak up with no pause and on and on; as his arms moved around to make sure every word he said was to be pointed at with the gesture of his hands. It was most certainly a case of professional deformation at this point - in the meaning of him not only being used to speak like this all the time; but rather being put in the circumstances, where he was demanded to speak like this all the time, even if it seemed like there was no need for that. In the end there was a need, Abigail could see it with the glancing gazes looking at her and Thomas all around. Mainly at Thomas though; as for others she was a mere obstacle that for some reason took the place they all needed.

But while they walked on and Thomas talked it gave Abigail the needed time to actually think through what he was saying to her. It is as if Thomas decided to be open with her and push her to drop the facade - for what reasons she was not sure. Irony was there was no actual facade - in a sense Thomas was trying to find at least. She was indeed not entirely honest with her motives to the full, but she never lied as well. Her heart did ache for these people. As her heart did ache for this man’s daughter. She had to be here to make a change, and she took this chance. Abigail was not a politician, she could not lie a lot for too long and not that she liked it in the first place and the games of this world were alien to her. 

The fact that Thomas thought of her as of one made Abigail feel something she did not feel for a long time though. It was not confuse, it was not anger either. The cosmic irony of this miscommunication was not lost on Abigail and a gigglish laughter rose up in her stomach and left her lips in a giggle rather soft and gentle - contrast to her usual appearance. 
Somewhat of a glimpse, or a shard of what she once was. 

“[color=f26522]I’m sorreh’ to dissapoint ye, mistah Arnault. I’m afraid I ain’t no agent of people ye speak of.[/color]”, she said at last, after a giggle has passed on her - enough to answer at least: “[color=f26522]God sees that happens: a priest who tries to make a chang[/color]e”. Is she still a priest though? It was quite some time since she actually addressed herself like so. Could she still consider herself being one even? She thought she abandoned her post, and with it her vows. 
She pushed these thoughts away for now. It was not time for them. 
There were far more aching questions to answer at the moment. Like what to answer to Thomas? Abigail was again as lost as ever, her inability to understand how the political world worked and moved was certainly her weakness in this situation. 

“[color=f26522]I would not deny, a donation would help our shelte’; we could buy some beds and new set of medical equipment. Ya see, we’ve bee’ struggling with getting proper supplies as of late; painkillers are hard to get tis days...[/color]”

She was not sure why she was saying this. She just had to say something to keep this situation going, she did not know how to handle it. Thinking back, it seemed like standing against police was at least easier to understand.