"Oh, I know!" The woman settles down herself, flopping onto the ground with the pair. "I've been doing this for years, and I still jump every time I hear one! People always firing them off into the air like it's the Fourth of July!" She laughs, before turning to the Balladeer and adding in a rather accusatory tone: "You've never been very helpful to me before."

He just rolls his eyes. "Hello, Sara Jane."

Sara Jane Moore huffs. "You know, I don't know why you're making such a fuss. John's absolutely right, enough is enough - we've all had enough of his lip," she adds for Greta's benefit, apparently feeling the stranger needs an explanation. "Stick around long enough, dear, you'll see."

"I'm sorry!" The Balladeer throws his hands up, clearly not at all sorry. He'd wanted some kind of distraction from the apparently distressing facts of his life, but this was not it. "Did you want a medal? And she's not one of yours - why are you all assuming that? I can talk to other people."

"Since when?" Sara Jane asks. It's a totally valid question. On the bright side, she appears content to sit on the floor of the hotel and talk for the moment.