She led the way to her own little room, tucked away and already furnished as comfortably as she'd been able to make it. Although Eppie as a rule preferred outcalls - no sense bringing work home when one didn't have to - she was aware of the possibility that at some point it may have become prudent to work in her own chamber. To that end it was furnished with spare but comfortable things: a few cushions scattered in a corner, a faded velvet counterpane on the bed, and a few paper wall hangings she'd managed to pick up at a market covering the walls, giving the room a cosy, warm feeling to it. She invited Mahir in politely, kneeling down by her bed to rummage about in a small chest she had tucked away under it.
"Ah..jus' a mo, and I'm sure I 'ave an..." she muttered distractedly, and after only a few seconds uttered a bright "Aha!" and held up a small scroll triumphantly. She pushed herself to her feet and held it out to Mahir, positively beaming. "Never knew why I kept it, meself...s'greek t'me, an' I can't make comins or goins ovit. Still...I know th'old man was a rum sort when it came t'his god, so I 'hope tha's wot yeh need, or...well." she ended off on a blushing giggle, a bit at a loss about what to say next. "Ah. Well."