Dear Lord this was not happening. How in God's name was a man of his stature so quiet? She hadn't even heard him come in! There was the possibility that the involuntary dunk she'd taken in the lake had damaged her hearing, but it couldn't have been that bad. Her cheeks thoroughly flushed, Mabel peeked over the arm of the couch, only daring to show her nose to her forehead as she looked at him. She should have hid, but there was a part of her that had been...curious to see his reaction. Would she see shock on his face? No, it was Dory - he hadn't fully disclosed the details of his life, but she was certain that Dory wasn't seeing anything he hadn't already seen before.

But then he was offering to help her out of them. What in the world had struck him to make him offer such a service?!

She was about to rise to her feet with indignation when she remembered the blasted reason why she was hiding behind the couch in the first place. The fact that she had just been lamenting she was physically unable to get her shoes off also came to her in another realization, and her lips flattened into a frustrated line as she stared at Dory.

Shoes or corset, shoes or corset, shoes or blasted corset.

Mabel tried to buy some thinking time (and modesty) by summoning her cloak so she could at least be decent by the time she reached her decision, however her wand had been discarded along with her blouse in her haste to protect whatever sliver of her dignity that remained. The flush only crept further down her neck from her cheeks as she resolved herself to merely crossing her arms over her chest as she stood up. "I'd much rather have your help with my shoes...if you please." Why on earth she was asking if he minded helping her take off her shoes was beyond her. But her shoes were better than her corset...weren't they?

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