"I know it's strange," the Balladeer says with a slightly apologetic wince. He hadn't thought it was strange enough to cause other people to weep on hearing it, but okay, note taken. Shifting forward, he lowers himself to sit on the floor as well. There, that's better! "It's not like everybody does this. My universe is not really that different from the one with Manhattan in it, for most people. It's just - "

"Oh! Oh, dear!" He's interrupted by a loud voice, as a woman comes bustling over to them. She doesn't look especially out-of-place here, dressed in fairly similar clothing and rustling about in a large handbag as she draws near to stand over the pair. "Just hang on a minute, sweetie - what DID he say to you? Oh! Here you go!"

She leans over to offer Greta several wadded-up tissues. The Balladeer watches her with the air of someone watching a car swerve dangerously along the freeway. There is about to be some kind of spectacular disaster here.