He had the sense to be at least a little ashamed by his actions. When she saw the faintest pink bloom on his cheeks, she became less afraid that he had some nefarious scheme to explain what he did. It was enough, at least, to convince her that he didn't mean her any harm. If they were existing in some sort of bizarre truce, she was going to take advantage of it. She did as he bid, sitting in the chair that had somehow become hers when she was hiding in his flat.