*a secret panel behind the bar slides open with a rusty creak, and a top-hatted gentleman dressed all in black steps forth* 'Merci, Gaston! À prôchaine foi!' He calls to someone in the dark doorway.
*looking around* So this is the Court of Miracles! My friend Gaston told me that I might be welcome here; for while I am neither ragamuffin, gypsy, nor outcast, I am self-déclassé . . . that is, it was not I who was cast out, it was I who did the casting out. I am called The Squire by some in the outside world, the demimonde; but here, amongst brethren, you may call me by my true name - Jigmë - a Tibetan word meaning 'fearless.'
Mr. Howard, it is good to see you again.
Lady Chrystal, I should love a glass of your most excellent wine. * sits down quietly*