She took him to be the owner. There wasn't any nametag, and nothing said he was the man that owned the building and all the oddities within, but he looked like the kind of man that would have a place like this. Maybe that was stereotyping, but she made a living from looking at men and determining what they liked, what they wanted, and maybe she could be forgiven for jumping to conclusions in this dusty grave, amid the corpses of past lives and lives passed.
"I'm Sparrow." She held out a hand, fingers encased in a cream evening glove, silk and with buttons along the inside. Pearled buttons, and much too fine for the dress she wore, which was a day dress. She was evening and daylight, and she was things that normally only touched in passing, and she waited for him to take her hand, to shake fingers like normal people, and like they weren't standing where they were, surrounded by things that wanted and yearned, as if they were living and breathing.
"You're Louis." Her smile was soft, as was the rest of her. Plump and healthy, and not even the hem of her skirts having the dirt of living collected thickly upon them. "Do I look like a Sparrow, or do you not have many female clients?" Her smile remained, sweet. "I think the former sounds more romantic."