stray chair. It stands near the fireplace. On the walls,
engravings; mostly Piranesis and mezzotint portraits. No
paintings.

Pickering is seated at the table, putting down some cards and a
tuning-fork which he has been using. Higgins is standing up near
him, closing two or three file drawers which are hanging out. He
appears in the morning light as a robust, vital, appetizing sort
of man of forty or thereabouts, dressed in a professional-looking
black frock-coat with a white linen collar and black silk tie. He
is of the energetic, scientific type, heartily, even violently
interested in everything that can be studied as a scientific
subject, and careless about himself and other people, including
their feelings. He is, in fact, but for his years and size,
rather like a very impetuous baby "taking notice" eagerly and
loudly, and requiring almost as much watching to keep him out of
unintended mischief. His manner varies from genial bullying when
he is in a good humor to stormy petulance when anything goes
wrong; but he is so entirely frank and void of malice that he
remains likeable even in his least reasonable moments.

HIGGINS [as he shuts the last drawer] Well, I think that's the
whole show.

PICKERING. It's really amazing. I haven't taken half of it in,
you know.

HIGGINS. Would you like to go over any of it again?

PICKERING [rising and coming to the fireplace, where he plants