Malcolm offers the man his thanks as he carries the phonograph into the hotel. He's lets out a sigh of relief as he puts the box onto the ground. He'd gotten so used to how light and slim everything was in his time that he wasn't expecting the phonograph to be so heavy.
While he catches his breath, he notices that the other man has written something on his paper pad and shown it to him. Odd. Perhaps he's mute?
Malcolm smiles and picks up the paper bag of records that is sitting on top of the phonograph. "Ragtime, mostly," he replies, pulling each of them out. "Scott Joplin, of course. Jelly Roll Morton... and even some Bessie Smith and Sophie Tucker."
He'd scored. And everything was ridiculously cheap in 1919.