The door creaked open, and he peeked through. He could hear a phonograph playing somewhere in the room, playing strange folk dances through its floral horn.
"Oh," a voice coughed, "you're at the right place, Elm, come in, come in." A faint clank and a rustling noise.
Elm opened the door more widely and entered. He didn't know what to expect of this teacher, other than that he was old and had a reputation as a bit of an eccentric.