Since there was no one there to make demands of him, Dale began looking around the room. The walls were a dark beige; when he put his hand against the plaster, it was still damp. He could smell fresh sawdust, and that—coupled with the emptiness of the foyer—made him suspect that they weren't done working on it yet. He grinned, his hand still resting on the wet plaster. They weren't expecting me to come along so quickly.