After the morning rush passed, Iroh reseeded the case with a few coins while making the rest disappear. He continued playing a little longer, a few lively tunes for the passersby and then to finish off, a slow, melancholy piece. Not the sort of thing to get attention; he let his eyes drift downward, caught up in the music for the few minutes he played.

When he looked up, he was startled to see that a car had pulled up in front of the occupied house. He hadn't expected anything nearly so soon. Working quickly, he packed up his horn and crossed the street just in time to see "the shabby gentleman" exiting the car and entering through the gate.

He went around to the back, and knocked on the door to ask for a glass of water, and made it inside almost as quickly as the shabby gentleman did, him in the kitchen and the "gentleman" in the parlor.

A few minutes later, part of the wall between the two houses collapsed, shaking the house enough that Iroh paused in the story he was telling the cook. Another few seconds, and the house shook again, even harder. "Not again!" the cook said, setting down her bowl and rushing toward a door that proved to open into the cellar.

Iroh, left alone, headed for the parlor, where he could hear someone speaking in a threatening tone.