The blind was not drawn in the middle kitchen, he could see the figures of his wife and one child.

There was a light also in the upstairs window.
His wife was gone upstairs again.

He wondered if she had the baby ill.
He could see her figure vaguely behind the lace curtains of the bedroom.
It was like looking at his home through the wrong end of a telescope.
Now the little girls had gone from the middle room: only to return in a moment.
His attention strayed.

He watched the light falling from the window of the next-door house.

Uneasily, he looked along the whole range of houses.