A presence? The butler thought, looking over his shoulder to take a peek of said presence, before fully turning his direction to yours.

"Ah," the butler straightens, assuming a proper stance fit for his occupation. "A fine evening, is it not?" He inquires, but the corners of his mouth subtly curls upwards, lips turning into a musing smile. "I jest," and he chuckles lowly.

"That concept doesn't apply to hell."