<div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Jarvis and Dorian head for the 9th floor. (Lobby, elevator, Dorian’s studio. (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=84539.0))</span></strong></div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The lobby was becoming busy with the toing and froing of what Jarvis could only assume were people that worked at the gallery.  He saw the elegantly dressed individual talking at Tilly, and tried to place him.  <em>What <strong>is</strong> his name?</em>  Jarvis strained to recollect.  <em>Lance? No that’s not right. </em>   He was vaguely aware him more by his reputation for spleen than anything else.  Jarvis tried to recall how he knew him, and whether he should like him, then remembered an acquaintance at his club remarking “you know, Pierce…as in prick…”  Jarvis really had no opinion of the man one way or the other.  Jarvis’s face twitched into a wry smile as he passed Shawn Albert Pierce. <em>Although, that is a <strong>very</strong> nice suit.  I must ask him who his tailor is. </em>  He reflected.<br/><br/>As they crossed the lobby to head for the elevator, Jarvis sensed Dorian prickle.  The disadvantage, Jarvis mused, of being so physically expressive.   He watched with amusement how Dorian interrupted (yet completely ignored) Pierce to let Tilly know that they were on the way to his studio, and that Courtney should meet them there.  The elevator arrived with a subtle <em>ding</em> and both men entered in silence.  Jarvis was feeling more comfortable around Dorian.  The way he rationalized this was that Dorian probably had no need of words to get his point across, and anyway, why describe with words something that is infinitely more expressive as an image?  He had learned that from the quadriptych.  Dorian pressed the number 9 on the panel, and they ascended.<br/></span><br/>