"Oh, I'm really not very," Jenny promises, more amused than self-deprecating. Deep an appreciation though she has for classical music, she's never been all that invested in the instrument, or at least in her own playing of it. (She still remembers looking at Danny's Lucky Hill with stars in her eyes, but that's something different, prompted more by how out of her own reach it would have been than any ambition as a musician.) "Cello was only my interest or hobby — had to be something, you know?" The words take on a wry tone, a clear repetition of something heard many times. "And anyway, I still don't know if I would have gotten in." (She wouldn't have.) "I did... well enough, I suppose, but my Latin wasn't very good."