Malachi's smile didn't falter, even if the question was as much of a surprise to him as the matter was to Father Richards.

"Yes," was his answer. Informative as a blank page.

Fortunately the focus did not remain on him for long. Again he lifted his tea, glad for the scent of it more than the taste. Not quite to his liking, but most varieties were not.

"Ah, I see. I can imagine serving where you grew up might come with some interesting issues," he said, as if he hadn't done the same in London. But he didn't figure that Father Richards had been quite as isolated from the community as he had been, growing up -- if he'd went to school with them, and known them in his youth, he could imagine it being difficult to properly serve them.