If she could have fled, she would have, bursting away in a cloud of bats. But it's sunny outside, so she's stuck within the safety of the crypt. And if she could remain hidden, she would have done that, too, lingering as a mist to be as nonthreatening as possible. But this stranger walks in with such certainty, clearly looking for her, and that means that she doesn't want to risk that he might start flinging holy water around into the corners of the room. Better to open the lines of conversation. Lenore's not going to win a fight against anyone confident at facing vampires, so she has to depend upon her charm in order to survive.

"What do you think they'll name it?" Lenore asks, stepping tentatively out of the deeper shadows. She has only her nightgown to wear, which is sheer silk, and no shoes. She stole a wool blanket from a farmhouse, leaving behind a silver earring to pay for it, so she holds that around her shoulders now. She doesn't need it for warmth, but she appreciates even that small amount of comfort against the cold stone, and it provides a little bit of modesty for her skimpy nightgown.