"A great harp," she says, as she approaches the instrument with a familiar eye. "Some of the pieces my father wrote for me just don't sound exactly right on instruments other than the ones they were meant for." Her own music lessons, once upon a time, were fairly memorable. Her father, for that matter, is a fairly memorable man; a good name and old money and forgiveable eccentricities. This is where Ilde came from, but the fact she makes note of the layout of the house and exit routes is a more recently learned habit and arguably more practical.

The piano looks a little like one she remembers from her terribly impractical home, on that note. "Is it badly out of tune?"