Francis tilted his head and looked almost disappointed. "You seem alright." He immediately dropped him back down. "I saw you on the ground unconscious after someone left. Thought maybe you'd been murdered." He shrugged.

Gabriel slowly sat up. This was not a nightmare - not a literal one anyway. And he remembered that the experience just now had not been a dream anyway. He got up. "Well, I am not dead. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Tully. I believe I need to lie down for a bit." He made his exit to go lock himself in his room and hopefully spend some time unconscious again, so he didn't have to reflect.

Father Richards wasn't getting an easy time just yet. As soon as his door was closed, there was a gentle knock and the voice he'd just heard on the other side.

"Are you sure, father? Who was that? She looked like a prostitute, and she was in here and not in church or the confessional. So why did she want to talk to you privately father? Did she get angry and attack you? Were you trying to secretly buy her services and she wanted to blackmail you?" He was clearly making up whatever ideas his mind could come up with. "Do I need to fetch a constable?"

Gabriel sat down on his bed, put his hand over his eyes and frowned. "No you don't, Mr. Tully. It's not your business why the lady was here. I believe you were hired to clean the church, not snoop around."

Francis seemed to keep his mood light. "It isn't my business, but shall you punish me for being concerned? You must have been up to something to be so.. defensive. Are you sure you're alright? You are so weak, this is the second time I recall you fainting. Shall I fetch a doctor?"

"I'm absolutely fine, Tully," he said. He pushed off his shoes, turned and lay back on his bed. The room was spinning. "What I need is rest." For the love of God.

Francis was in a mood and wasn't going to give in easily. "Are you sure? You could have injured yourself and not aware. Maybe you want a glass of water or some wine before bed. It could help you sleep." He said through the door as he started rhythmically tapping on it with his fingertips lightly. "It's too early to sleep though. Maybe you did hit your head and not realize? Or are you just using this as an excuse to hide from me? God does prefer his followers honest, doesn't he?"

Gabriel pulled his hand over his face and groaned quietly. Then he got up, walked over to the door and opened it. He felt slightly dizzy again. "Mr. Tully, what is it you want?"

Francis smiled at him and leaned against the door frame. "Is it a sin to be concerned? I am trying to be nice. Offer you a glass of water, make sure you don't need a doctor, offer an ear? Why do you prefer me being mean?"

"I have told you what I need, Mr. Tully: Rest," he said wearily. "And yet you seem determined to disturb it. So what is it you want?"