"Oh, this is Washington," he explains, not quite turning to face her. He's craning his neck towards the building, as if expecting something to happen. There is more of a crowd forming now; actually, it looks as though they're being shuffled through the gate, like they've got tickets to get inside. The Balladeer ignores those people. "The nation's capital. It's only 1882, so it's not quite as modern as..."

He trails off for a moment, realizing what he was about to say. And who exactly he's explaining this all to - he turns to look at Greta with a bit of surprise. "What - where did you come from?"