<div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Jarvis and Dorian arrive at Dorian's studio</span></strong></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Other than the obvious area for taking photographs, Dorian's studio was a hotch-potch of styles.  The apparent disharmony only mildly puzzled Jarvis.  He appreciated that this in itself could be a choice of interior decoration ~ and besides, a man with Dorian's visual abilities would not be running to hire an interior decorator.  The thing that did confuse Jarvis, however, was the amount of books.  For someone who did not speak much, there was an enormous amount.  <em>Granted, being a reader does not make you a talker.</em>  Jarvis mused. <em>But he is so verbally inarticulate.</em> He was beginning to realize that Dorian kept cards close to his chest.<br/>"An avid reader, Dorian?"  It was an impish question, delivered with a smile.  Jarvis was more and more intrigued by this apparently paradoxical soul whom he was beginning to warm to.  He felt the fluttering of excitement in his belly and it reminded him ~ lunch. <br/>"Pay no mind to my sarcasm, it's pathological" Jarvis's tone was genuine.  "Before we get to the <em>other</em> books, how about lunch?"  Jarvis was fishing his Blackberry out of his suit pocket.  "I know this fabulous caterer, he'll deliver anywhere in a half hour.  Really, it's good.  And he can do most things.  What do you feel like? Sushi?  Tapas? Oysters and champagne?"  Jarvis was passionate about <em>eating well</em> and by this he meant the best possible quality (although not necessarily the most healthy.)  "To be frank, I feel this may be a champagne afternoon.  And don't fret...I have an account with this fellow, this one's on me.  Tell me...what do you eat?"  He was poised to dial.</span>