*had nearly forgotten there was a piano down here, it's so much decoration (nobody ever plays it—definitely not like that—and anyway, the really nice one's upstairs)*
*pauses at the doorway and looks in, clearly on his way to or from somewhere business-y, given the necktie and the laptop bag*
*pleasantly (as if he isn't already trying to work out whether he should recognize two mirror images lounging in the Flower)* Sorry about that. I'll have the lord of the House make an appointment with a tuner.