Your wait is not long: a lanky, dour-faced older man in well-made but plain clothes enters, followed by the doorman.<br/><br/>"...to it that any late arrivals are shown in at once."<br/><br/>"Of course, sir."<br/><br/>"Excellent.  You are dismissed."  The doorman withdraws and the dour-faced man turns his attention to you.  After a moment he makes a peculiar face, which reflection shows is probably meant to be a welcoming smile.  "And here we are.  I trust you found your way pleasant enough, under the circumstances?"<br/><br/>He crosses to the desk and retrieves a sealed letter.<br/><br/>"I pray you pardon me for a moment while I attend to my lord's instructions concerning this meeting.  It may be I shall even be permitted to discuss what very little I know of this matter.  Ah!  Forgive me.  I am M. Valliant, steward to His Grace the Duc du Masque.  His Grace is not presently in town, having found pressing business on his estates and elsewhere.  He sends his apologies and desires that you make yourselves at home in these modest lodgings as his guests."<br/><br/>He breaks the seal and reads the letter, his expression darkening with every passing moment...