When Mary sees the handkerchief appear, she just assumes sleight of hand. That would be the more common answer back home, anyway. She accepts the handkerchief and holds it below her eyes, each in turn, as she wipes away the tears and fresh ones well up with no sign of stopping.

"I don't know if I can. It feels... it feels like I've always hurt. Body and mind. I don't know what to do anymore." Mary takes a breath, and softly blows her nose. (She'll clean the handkerchief later, bring it back for the next appointment, probably.) "But... but if you have ideas... I suppose I can still try."

She'd given up once before, but the universe clearly wasn't finished with her yet. So... if they want an encore, Mary ought not refuse.