Daddy Doll is contemplating the ceiling in his study, which is sagging. Looks like it's about to fall down. The ceiling fan, he thinks, is probably the only thing holding it up.
The wall clock hanging over his head is one he calls "Goliath's pocket-watch."
Lucinda is cleaning the study again. It must be spotless, because she spends a lot of time in there. She's not as old as Grandma, but she's several years older than Daddy, and she's awfully fond of him. Daddy secretly thinks she's the only person in the house who understands and appreciates him.
Daddy notices what looks like a ghost peering in through the top left pane of the glass door to the balcony. If you click on the ceiling picture, you can see the "ghost."
"Lucinda, do you see that weird reflection in the glass door?"
Lucinda turns and, glancing at the door, says, "Why, Mr. D., that's not a reflection. It's just a jug of flowers I put on the balcony this morning. I declare, sir, you ought to start wearing your specs, or go get some new ones."
Daddy winces, hearing another cash register ringing. He has lost his old eyeglasses, having refused to wear them on a ribbon around his neck.