She was getting nothing from him. It was frustrating- back in Russia, one soft gaze could melt the hearts of men and loosen their tongues. People here were so caught up in their own self importance that no tugging at their heart could persuade them to help her out. She knew it was time to really work hard.
"Mr Thompson," she said. "May I be frank?" She paused, glancing around. She sighed. "Mr Thompson, my father is dead. I live with my mother, grandmother, aunt, and little sister. They are all soft, dependent. I am trying to clear a way for a life for them here, but with this illness and my distrust of government, I am not sure how to protect myself, especially since no one is willing to tell me what to worry about. If I knew this Minister was susceptible to bribes, I could counteract that trouble. If I knew he would run if one of his family members were hurt, I'd extend my protection to them. I seek to strengthen this land to save my family and give them shelter. I know I sound prying and nosy, but I am all my family has." All relating to her family was true. Though she might not be clearing a way for them here, she was certainly trying to secure their safety. Her father was dead, her family susceptible to harm. She had leaned forward, her face earnest and her hand had even caught his, her soft gaze holding his, imploring him to see her struggle.