Though he would have liked to rush through to the important part, anticipation building in his chest, Reginald couldn't help but huff at Cecilia's summary of her father's side. "Speaking from experience, that's hardly Catholic of them," he grunted. "Should you ever see them again, you should tell them that. People like that. . . well, they give us all a bad name, don't they?" Reginald sighed. He studied her for a while -- the better part of a minute, at least.
"Cecilia," he began, almost carefully. "May I ask for your subject number?" He tapped on the inside of his wrist, on the identification bracelet. "Please."