Lyubov's much less confused now, but unfortunately, when conversations reach this specific point, she usually finds that nothing she could say could be adequate.

And Erin doesn't look like she might bite in self-defence. (In other ways, maybe, but Lyubov's not interested, and presumes that, assuming she's reading Erin right, Erin can tell she's a fag.)

"Ah. Well, nu, in that case—"

If she knew Erin better, she might go for a hug. As is, she steps forward, reaches out and squeezes Erin's upper arm.

"I beg thy pardon for such forwardness, but like. Thou must know, nu ... the point at which words fail."

She sounds more confident than she feels. This part is part of a script, though rarely deployed at first meeting. Almost never, in fact.