There was almost a full minute of silence, before the indistinct figure of a man appeared behind the frosted glass of the door. He appeared to take some time over the lock, before finally pulling back the bolt and gently easing the door open. It lacked any kind of ominous creak, which was a shame for such a forbidding-looking house; still, Stephen Strange himself more than compensated for any kind of gothic charm the house itself lacked.
"Emma Frost," said Doctor Strange kindly. He had a deep and surprisingly strong voice, given his advanced age, but it seemed like Ms Frost had got the memo on underestimating the man in any manner. He allowed the door to swing open fully, allowing her unfettered access to the corridor beyond. "And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"
The hallway beyond him was wide, and light -- wider, perhaps, that might have been expected in a property of that age. A number of portraits lined the walls, and a thick luxurious carpet ran the entire length. It was a home of opulence, and of money.