Taking a few moments, the Master admired the suit. After all, he himself had a love for suits. And unlike the Doctor, he actually had taste when it came to dressing himself. At least in this regeneration of his. He couldn't really speak for the previous ones, but he did believe he always had the better fashion sense. At least he didn't go around wearing vegetables pinned to his clothing! Or that God awful technicolored coat. And he was just not going to touch the outfit with the question marks. Suits were always neat and tailored, and he smiled at hearing Westwood. "Definitely an excellent suit." Of course, he was by no means British, but he knew the good suit makers in England from his tenure as Prime Minister.
"Harold Saxon," he replied, shaking Moriarty's hand. He wasn't going to introduce himself as the Master. That type of greeting would just get him trouble, usually. But The name Moriarty seemed familiar, though he was having a hard time placing it. For all the time he spent terrorizing Earth and mankind, he hadn't always kept up on their culture. Though he undoubtedly knew something of Moriarty, but it was all fuzzy. But then came the question of the complex. Well, now he felt as though he could use his actual name, but it could still bring him unwanted trouble right now.
"No. Most people there don't like me. I've got my own place. I do visit it sometimes." Though he only went there because of Romana. If it was up to him, he wouldn't step foot in that place. He knew everyone there went on high alert whenever he came close to the building. But he wasn't going to reign death down upon them or anything of the sort. Though he sort of missed when everyone on the planet was a clone of him. That had been fun.