The Balladeer lingers around the bottom of the scaffold for a moment, half-expecting something to happen. What would he do if he just suddenly turned around and found himself surrounded by all of them, all over again? Or maybe it would start from the beginning, with crackling flames and the stench of smoke. But life goes on. The crowd is dispersing, while two men loosen the rope to let Guiteau's body thump down into the dust. The Balladeer winces and turns to head back to Greta's side, letting the banjo rest at his side again.

"That's that, then." He gives her a forced smile. He knows the whole ordeal changes little for him; he'll see Guiteau again after this, probably sooner than he wants to. That doesn't mean that he enjoys watching a man die. "Let's get out of here. I'll show you around the city?"

He's never lingered to see what happens with the body before, but they're not treating it too gently back there. He's willing to bet there'll be fire in the near future. They should really both be gone before that.