An intoxicating "good evening" seductively purrs from the dim lit depths of the manor's hall. A voice... with an unmistakable timbre and resonance reverberates in a dominant yet subtle tone. "So glad you could make it" ...then ebbs and flows from the darkness. The voice welcomes us as we slowly approach a large doorway to the left of our inquisitive entry. Before our eyes are able to fashion a focus, we then hear, "you're in the right room." Although we find it a bit intriguing to be assured by an anonymous welcome, we are still somewhat inhibited by the mysteriously inviting atmosphere. As we then turn to enter the doorway from which the voice has come, we are greeted by a Machiavellian image of a man sitting nonchalantly in a Victorian styled chair. Cigar clutched in teeth, and a rare bottle of Le Pin clutched in hand. He immediately notices that our hands are shaking. What are we to do in such attractively perceptive company? Be warned? Or feel welcome? You decide.
