Answer:
The butler was a boney, tall old man who had balding, silver hair reached towards the ceilings as if even it was afraid of the frail man underneath it. His face was gaunt, and his skin was as pale as a sheet as if he had never seen the light of the sun, nor a scrap of food off a table. For a moment, he did not talk, only stared at me with his dead, foggy, gray eyes. Finally, he stepped aside with grace and quietness that unsettled me, the long, black, and grey striped blazer with a line of copper buttons down the side flowing with the movement, however, the tuxedo shirt and bowtie he wore underneath stayed unmoved and without a single imperfection.
"Come in. The master has been expecting you," he said, his voice deep, cold, and hoarse. A chill went down my spine; I should not have come here.
