Dale waited until she had gone into the alcove before undressing, piling his clothes on top of the cabinet which held the soap. There was nothing to prevent Lyra from peering over the top, or from just coming out into the room if she wanted to, but he trusted that she wouldn’t unless he wanted her help. She seemed to be rapidly figuring out his desire for privacy, which was nice. The nurse had, too, letting him keep his toga on while she examined him.