Malachi had spent much of his life alone. In his youth and on, into his adulthood, he had lived his life on the wrong side of the glass, always watching the world outside without taking part in it. Nettie was... a bridge. Or rather, a fracture in the glass, that at least allowed his voice to be heard through it. Having her around again in any capacity was a welcome thought.

She would certainly need to find that semi-permanent residence she talked about, though. Whatever unsavory establishment had provided more temporary shelter would not cut it in the long run.

"This is not work," insisted Malachi. "I would much rather be walking here with you."

Was it befitting of a priest to say so? He supposed not; his loyalties should have been first with his holy duties, but it was far from the first time he'd neglected them.

Malachi turned his head at the mention of her finding work, however. His first thought was that something must have happened, that Levi must have ruined the business, or that his mother had finally spent the last of the money -- but Nettie did not sound as if the question came from a place of need. He directed their path down a side street and then back onto the main path.

"I think you would do well at it," he said first, considering the question seriously. "If it's something you want to do, then you should. Is that the sort of thing you'd have a shop for, or are you thinking of doing it from your home?"