Another one of those nice things about being a musician is that people, generally, don't mind you hanging about. A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker (...well, baked goods smelled nice, so maybe the baker), not so much. But a musician with a single instrument who could play it well and not too loudly was more of a boon to a resident than an irritant.
As such, he was on a relatively clean and friendly-looking street with a few open air shops serenading those walking by with a rather nice rendition of Saint-Saens
Havanaise. He didn't have his violin case out in front of him, as it never left his hip, but there was a bowl he'd managed to find that was doing the trick well enough.