A Lady of Rome by F. Marion Crawford

An hour later Castiglione was admitted to the little house in Via Belsiana by a small man with eyes like a ferret and reddish hair, who shut the street door at once but did not seem inclined to let the visitor pass beyond the narrow hall without some further formality.

‘The club is not open yet,' he said, civilly enough. ‘You probably do not know the hours, as this is the first time you have been here, though you have the pass words.'