Yorick was waiting for June outside his church. The streets weren't particularly crowded. But an ardent secarian Yorick didn't take any chances with the masqurade. He presented as he normally did around his church, like the humble, if slightly self-absorbed priest the community had come to know him as
Although less obvious in his obfuscated state, the only thing that would have given him away to someone "in the know" was a subtle smell of menstrual blood. But so long as the great unwashed remained the great unwashed, that wasn't a problem.