Six-thirty, the first artist arrived. Timothy Durkinson really cleaned up, looking much a gentleman than a street vendor. He still had the vocabulary of a lowly education and a dentist's nightmare of crooked teeth, but that wasn't going to be a problem. Rich people liked to bask in the dialects from time to time as it sounded foreign and fascinating to their ears. The teeth just added to that 'I have a dialect' atmosphere.

"The one you bought!" Timothy seemed pleased to see Jack was wearing the necklace. "Although I intended for womens."

"Fashion is not a gender, Timothy," Jack said, speaking the language of the recent trends. More women were wearing pants and some even top hats. Some men were dabbling into jewelry. The eras were shifting.

Ten minutes of small talk later, Ann Smithe arrived. She was in a gorgeous red gown and in her hair, she had red ribbons weaved through.

"Jack!" Her face lit up when she saw him. "As dashing as ever! I brought Julie, my niece as promised her, and you, of course. Simon is getting her situated back there."

"Splendid!" Jack beamed and kissed her hand. "I always know I can count on you, Ann."

"As always. I purposefully did not look at the ball room get up yet."

Jack called Timothy over as he had seen it already. "Would you like to show her the ball room? It's best before customers arrive."

"Golly-ho!" he said and offered Ann his arm. Jack watched them smiling at each other and went back to station himself at the door. Five minutes later, Samuel Bakers came in his signature vest with white shirt combination and the vest was dark blue with gold buttons. He laughed when he saw that he and Jack shared the same colors.

"We think alike, you and I!"

"It's why you keep coming back here, Sam," Jack said with a smile, shaking the man's hand.

"Hopes to sell the damned today," Samuel muttered under his breath, "The missus been asking about it." He shook his head. "I just want it off my hands."

"You leave it up to me." Jack pointed a thumb at himself with a grin. "Ah!" He went to the door as Finch-James came in. "Finch, you made it, how's your father?"

Finch-James noticeably swallowed nervous spit. "Well, he's good. Still in bed. There are a few more things. Where do I—"

"Come this way, please. Simon!" Jack called and Simon came to his side. Since they'd already met, formalities were had for a second and turned to friendliness. Jack left them to stand at the door once again. The ticket master, seventeen-year-old Julie Jones, niece of Ann Smithe, had volunteered for the job and seemed eager to make a little money and hopefully see any famous people.

"You think you can handle the onset?" Jack asked and she flushed.

"Yes, Mister Ogswold." She lowered her gaze. "You look very dashing Mister Ogswold."

Jack smirked. "And you are lovely yourself."

"Oh!" Julie said and blushed. A shy smile crept up on her lips. "Mister Ogswold, if you wouldn't mind, perhaps, after this, we could—"

There was a honk of a car horn—another recent thing in this new era, but one of which Jack wasn't excited about. It belonged to a sleek black car. The front lights had flags of Endil attached to it. Jack looked at Julie whose eyes ogled at the car. It would have been strange if she didn't know who it was.

The car stopped. The driver came out. When he opened the passenger door, out came Minister Palestone, earliest to arrive and The Kaleidoscope wasn't even open yet. But he was the minister. Exceptions could be made.

"Mister Palestone!" Jack greeted the minister with a smile and a tip of his hat. The minister returned the gesture his quiet, thin, frail wife gave a sight nod of her head.

"I am terribly sorry about your father," the minister said. "It was quite sudden, I heard, and he was a fine chap."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said. He sized up the minister as they made small talk about the weather. The minister seemed in good spirits which meant all the easier to convince him to buy Samuel's painting. Catching the end of the conversation, he brought it up.

"Well sir, why don't we go inside. I actually have something for you that you might find quite exquisite. A mural of our country."

Minister Palestone's small eyes brightened. "Ah! Let us see. I have been looking forward to this day all week. Just settled a little business with his royal highness, and it was chance that I could take a day off today, taking Elizabeth who so adores Ann Smith trinkets. She has a few on her dresser, but they were gifts from friends."

Poor Elizabeth was only a bobbing head the entire time. Jack knew women like her, married off to a rich mongrel just for his money. Usually, such women were from poor families with poor parents who had poor outlooks on life. It was pathetic, really. Jack did pity her and he knew she would not get a chance to talk much this evening.

"It's right this way, sir," Jack said, taking the couple to the painting that took up most of the wall at the far end of the gallery. "Such a large masterpiece, however, you must feast your eyes on this." He pulled the rope and the curtains came apart. "Endil, as seen from an airship. One of its kind and this is the only one left."

"My!" The minister's small pea eyes became a little larger. "Fascinating! It is abstract, the modern way, is it not?"

"Quite so."

"The only one left?"

"Indeed. Quite a popular piece," Jack lied, "and I believe you have been up in an airship, perhaps wished to capture this exact moment?" He glanced at the minister who was nodding his head thoughtfully. But being impressed and buying were two different things. Jack had to make him want to own it.

"How much is she?"

"Currently sits at a thousand fellings, but for you sir, I can make a deal."

"Thousand!" He gasped and then furrowed his brows, nodding. "But something as big as this..."

Jack stepped up to the painting. "Imagine this in your living room. Waking up, coming down the stairs, and the first thing you see is this magnificent piece of art, accurately capturing the beauty of Endil as it is."

"Mm, that would be a lovely morning."

"And at night, why, if you buy some lights to shine down on this piece, as it is now, sir." Jack gestured to the light above. "Changes the painting. Makes it seem like a nighttime adventure. The thing of dreams."

The minister was nodding. "That would be a delight."

Jack spotted Sally and George arriving. It was seven, on the dot, and more people were coming behind them. "Well sir, I must greet the customers, but you can stay here as long as you like. Say, Simon!" he called, and Simon came over with two chairs. Jack smirked, knowing he could always count on Simon to always be observant and attentive for his boss. Once the Palestones were seated to admire the mural, Jack went to the door to greet Sally, George, and then Officer Rupert Hamstern.

"Good evening, Rupert, my old friend!" Jack smiled and the shadow of concern on Rupert's face vanished.

"Well, good evening. I-I don't suppose—"

"Do come this way," Jack took him to where Ann and Timothy were talking, "Ann, a fan." He smirked at the rhyme. It was a good one. Ann turned and for some reason in slow motion, or so it seemed. Rupert became a statue that had to be prodded into attention to introduce himself.

"Rupert here has long adored your art, Ann." Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Tell her, Rupert."

"You have the bracelet! Splendid. You know, I have been trying to design more for men because the fashion world is changing nowadays. Would you come see my latest collection and tell me, Rupert, as a man, what you think of them? An artist's eye can be a bit skewed solely to the art of it and not the fashion bit."

Jack nodded in assurance when Rupert glance over his shoulder. He was completely a different person when it came to Ann. Not the gruff-sounding police officer anymore. How disappointed he would be to find out that Ann was beginning to take to street vendor Timothy Durkinson. It was an unexpected match with them coming from such different backgrounds. But over the course of the week, Jack would often see them talking closely together.

Differences, no, opposites attract, so it's said. Jack shrugged and headed back to the door. On his way, George stopped him.

"Jack, terribly sorry to hear about your father. How's everything? If you need anything, know you can come to us." He gestured to his wife who was talking to Palestone. "She's been worried about you. She saw you run off after the funeral."

Did she now? Jack wondered if he would have to do something about that. Sally was one who liked her rumors. "I was just upset, that's all. He's been a big part of my life."

George gave a tight-lipped smile and patted Jack's shoulder. "He was a great man. Truly was."

Jack returned the smile. Sally called over her husband and they began to talk to the Palestones, gesturing up to the painting or to the set up now and then.

Hope they're trying to sell it. Jack smirked. At the door again he greeted more people, ones that were just plain customers eager to get into the arts and to enjoy themselves. The get-up was quite the topic of conversation, Jack noticed with delight. He knew it was going to be popular and perhaps the talk of the table for many days to come. There was soon a small crowd around Timothy's table and the vendor was having to explain his story about dragon's breath probably more time than he had ever had to.

People in casual clothes, people from Amsgeld, Hobbersmead, Tungerden, Honley, and many other far reaches and close reaches came into The Kaleidoscope. Some just bought the tickets for the art, and some took the full package of the art tour that Simon was giving and of the dinner that would follow at eight-thirty. Everything was running smoothly, and Jack smiled in satisfaction.

Spotting Finch-James coming from one of the back rooms, Jack decided to have a go at him. The boy already looked nervous when he came. Surely, he was on the edge of wetting himself.