It had been a busy week between addressing at least a dozen concerns with his uncle, attending beheadings, helping with revolutionary nonsense, asking around the city, finding that girl's paintings, burning most of them just to make a point, etc.. He was ready to come home and have a moment of peace, as peaceful as their country in that era could be for anyone. He, at least, had a comfortable position in all of it.
Unfortunately, his peace would only be interrupted. Michel had been at his simple desk playing with the strings on an old violin when he heard the knock on the door. He wasn't accustomed to getting many visitors, always being the person to visit rather than the one inviting. Those who did stop by once every now and then were never welcomed to do so for long before he found a reason for them to go elsewhere. The fact that he wasn't expecting anyone put him somewhere between curiousness and suspicion. He stood from his seat, buttoned a few buttons on his shirt, and walked down the few steps to where the door was.
The person on the other side was not who he was expecting, though he couldn't really say he had anyone he actually was expecting. He looked at her for only a moment before shutting the door again right in her face. While he did notice that she was holding something, he wanted nothing to do with it or how she found out where he lived. Well, okay, she certainly had access to the information of where he lived, but that did not mean that he wanted anything to do with it. Maybe if he pretended she wasn't there, she'd go away.