"She's waiting upstairs, sir."
"She's… who is?"
"The lady of the house, sir."
He looked up the spiral staircase, listened, heard nothing. He glanced down at the postcard, blank but for this address, and turned back to the butler with a worried look. "Why am I here?
"Who is the lady of the house? What does she want with me?"
"I'm sure I don't know, sir. If you'll proceed upstairs, sir."
He had one foot on the lowest step, as if of its own accord. His hand reached out for the railing.
"What's the worst that could happen, sir?"