Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. “I’m being honest with you. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager.
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