Mitchell quietly examined the gallery, walking its circumference at a slow and deliberate pace. He scanned the room and peered into the various displays, allowing his intuition, unseen sense, and spirit tongue to do their work. Eventually, one of placards caught his eye. So he read it aloud, "Example of Gingerbread Style." He turned to study the scale model that it corresponded to. Unfortunately, it didn't look edible at all. Needs more chocolate, was his professional opinion.
Stifling a bored yawn, he made his way over to the opposite side of the gallery. A piano sat there looking like it hadn't been played in decades. Too bad I never took lessons. And though he was tempted to press a key to see if the darn thing still worked, he didn't. It was the disastrous mental image of the piano falling to pieces at his touch that had dissuaded him. The last thing I need to do right now is break The Nemean's stuff.
Slowly backing away, Mitchell prepared to move on to the next room to continue his investigation, but halted when some of the sheet music caught his attention. That's odd, he thought. He couldn't read a note of music to save his life and yet he felt a strangely insistent urge to finish the piece that was laying there.
Shaking his head clear, he turned and shouted back towards the dining room, "Hey guys, come take a look at this!"