Lucy entered and Mike followed. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. He had chosen his time well.
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