A table littered with papers stood in front of him bearing a portable electric lamp.

He was obviously too engrossed to think of exterior things.
For a space he sat again in silence by the open window, only the faint rustling of the lace curtain being audible.

His somewhat hard, clean-shaven face was bent over his work with rigid concentration.
His eyelids scarcely stirred.
Then again there came a tapping, this time at the door.

The frown returned to his face.

He looked up.
"Well ?" The door opened.