Frederick Carl Frieseke paintings

Frederick Carl Frieseke paintings
Flamenco Dancer paintings
Franz Marc paintings
"George. . ." She drew the name out protestingly, and seemed about to weep again. To forestall her I acknowledged the truth of what she'd charged earlier -- that with regard to human ladies, at least, I understood nothing. I asked her to remedy my ignorance with plain statements.
"Is there anything you have to do this afternoon? Dr. Sear's closed the office."
She glanced apprehensively at the one-way mirror. I assured her that no one was watching, and wondered why she cared, since we were only talking.
"Your mother wants to be when Uncle Reg arrives," she said. "But that won't be until dinnertime."
"Then I'm going to get to know you," I said. "Inside out, in every way. Even if it takes the rest of the afternoon."
Her eyes doubted. "I'vetold You my whole flunkèd past, George: all the terrible things I've done thinking they were right. You know as much about me as I do."