Still holding the quill pen, she stands back up and goes back to the mirror--slowly, carefully. This isn't the time to end up tripping over her feet (or bleeding all over the carpet); Ellie'll just think she's right.

Ruth starts feeling the mirror--the edges of the frame, the wall behind it--with the palm of one hand. While she does, she mutters, "Anyone sorry, anyone ever tell you you're stubborn as a mule? Pardon."