Butler crossed the cobbled street to the four-story apartment building.
There was an intercom security system, but this structure was nineteenth
century, and a solid shoulder at the right point popped the bolt right out of
its housing.
“I’m in.”
She had no need for tools like my master did. With the air of a master who could see an
error of a single micron in the grinding of a telescope's mirrors with the naked eye, she
continued to trace various parts of the body with her finger.
After a while, she spoke again.
"Ah, seems I was mistaken. This is definitely my work."
