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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Therefore you will joyously draw water from the springs of salvation."[/color][/sub]
[hr] [color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Chapel Undercroft [/center] [hr][hr]

	Luck was with Sister Mary as she traversed the stairs into the Chapel proper and into the nearest side room. It was a study, one of a set behind the pulpit that functioned as an office for parish priest or Church official. Said official would be short a sturdy metal pitcher of cool water and a stout ceramic mug, at least for a little while. Lay workers or cloistered Sisters would provide such creature comforts to the Priests, Dignitaries, and of course the Bishop. Such items were replaced regularly enough. Fresh fruit lay nearby as well, but that was not specifically what Mary was after. Removing some without permission would be a little too close to "coveting thy neighbor's ass" for her liking. Besides, there would likely be some waiting at her rooms later, anyway. 

	Quickly as she dared (considering she was carrying a pitcher of water) Mary returned to the Undercroft. Her polearm was still leaning where she left it, as was Elizaveta. The young Apostolic hurried to her, extending the mug first and filling it as soon as she was satisfied the young noblewoman had a firm grip upon it. The sound of water rising inside of the container reminded Mary that it had been a while since she had taken a drink, or a meal for that matter. It was expected that she might have found some accommodation at Almack's later on. As a backup plan, she did take some provisioning from the kitchens in preparation for the evening. Then the drama unfolded, postponing those plans. 

	If the evening continued to go in the direction it was veering towards, she was fairly certain that the pie, water, and wine that she set aside would still be wholesome and fresh come morning. Waste not, want not. And if by some miracle she could make the gathering elsewhere in town to provide her services, having that might prove extremely useful. 

	But to the present, she turned to the man who had brought the Cargast candidate, effected a terse curtsy, and thanked him genuinely. [color=c0c0c0]"Sir, please pardon my earlier impatience and curt speech. It is within my nature to become direct and taciturn when dealing with the Soulless."[/color] Mary effected a smile. It was neutral but warm, one birthed of presentable behavior if not quite finishing school etiquette. She offered her hand to the man, the one that wasn't laden with a water pitcher. [color=c0c0c0]"I am Sister Mary Ignatia Hale, Dame of the Holy Order of St. Sylvester and resident Knight Venator here at St. Etheldreda's. It was a act of bravery, carrying that woman all the way here. Most men would have been too afraid to touch her. I am at your service, sir."[/color] 

	Mary refilled Elizaveta's mug. [color=c0c0c0]"Do you need anything more, Lady Romanova? A place to rest, perhaps?"[/color]