Even though she didn't want to, Mable turned to glare at Francis at his quiet words.  Who was he to tell her what to do?  He was just a stranger, and a drunk, and smelled terribly.

"You give yourself too much credit," she spat at him, turning forward again.  "I know things are difficult, but it's not just because of you.  I told you; my brother is dead.  That's why it's difficult!  Now leave me alone to I can mourn in peace."