He does get the feeling like he shouldn't touch anything.

Admittedly, he occasionally felt that way around the Malfoy townhouse, but that had more existential reasons behind it than simply spending the day bleeding into his clothes. In this case, Lucius is. Surprised. He had not imagined finery when he'd texted the unassuming young woman, expecting perhaps needing to find a place for them that wasn't the Valhalla Inn or whoever she found to stay with, or, at best, the cosy hovel that newcomers might dig out for themselves.

Appreciation doesn't do too much to relax him, however. But he is too proud to say anything or even show either thing outwardly beyond a sharper glance around. "I won't attempt to monopolise your whole evening," he says, having a go at being gracious.