She leaves, and the priest comes out of there smirking and reactivating his French accent. Also, he has done some shit to his face.

SPECTATOR

Nate's actually held onto an assistant for more than a week. Less understandably, what she has to say is crazy times two.

Hairdo: "The new issue of The Spectator is ready to be uploaded [?] and the photographer's downstairs to cover the debut of Serena's column [?]."
Nate: "Great. Let me just solve my own murder and also see if Chuck is roaming around town lurking outside churches because he can't go in them."
Chuck: "Nathaniel, I'm lurking outside this church because I can't go inside."

(Then he actually makes this joke.)

Nate sends Chuck a picture of Max, taken the night of the accident, with an envelope full of cash. Sometimes a candid photo can really tell you a lot. Then Gossip Girl emails Nate to tell him that it's his turn to help her now that she's sent him this informative photo.

His reply is emailed to "Gossip Girl." Just simply "Gossip Girl." That's her email address.

CHURCH

Beatrice: "Christ, I can barely remember this storyline. So wait, Blair's going to replace you as the royal priest when she becomes princess?"
Cavalia: "Not if we get her drunk at the bachelorette party and fuck her up."
Beatrice: "I'm not sure about this. She's being kind of nice to me, which has never happened."
Cavalia: "First of all, she just told me she's still in love with Chuck. Second of all, you have some interest in this shit that has to do with the succession. And most importantly, I'm not losing my job to that crazy bitch. My Botox budget alone..."
Beatrice: "Okay, she left out the part about her cold feet. I'm in. Let's get our Borgias on, you corrupt man of the cloth."
Cavalia: "My plan is we either design a dress for her that shows a vague outline of her body underneath -- which will send her running to Haiti in mortal shame -- or else we could all wear masks and dress up like her and swan around the party just long enough to dose her with ether and sell her into white slavery."
Beatrice: "I bet we can come up with something else. Let's keep spitballin'."