Where he’d come from and how through several sets of manned doors drawing no one’s attention was something that later generated much delight and several high level inquiries. The vulnerable nape of neck guileless skull curvature slicked down cow-lick and waddle with not a hint of swagger. Quietly seated in the mezzanine gallery a young duck, not quite duckling but not very much past despite the mature freckles. Okay, allowable the first time but day after day? Not a quack. No droppings. Not even a feather. Firmly holding his ground a good minute before allowing himself to be ushered out by two security guards only to reappear the next day before the Bonnard.