Winslow Homer Children on the Beach painting

Winslow Homer Children on the Beach paintingAndrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful Life paintingAndrew Atroshenko Just for Love painting
This is just the Mouth," I said when the lift-door and my eyes opened on the familiar ruby glow. Able now to move her head, Anastasia tensed at my words and declared: "Then this is the end, I guess. But I don't mind being EATen, George. . ." Indeed, she slipped out before I could and gave me her hand, saying, "I love You."
Again those words! I swung my legs out of the tapelift and thoughtfully rubbed my chin. Bray was gone before me, I perceived, leaving only the faintest trace of himself behind: perhaps he lurked in the Belly proper; on the other hand he may have gone on towards Founder's Hill. No matter. All that counted was that final shadow, which, like My Ladyship's mighty night-fleck in the Gorge, appeared no larger than a man's hand, and yet enveloped the University. I, beloved! I frowned and squinted, blinked like Peter Greene. Anastasia's face was all entreaty; and yet, having said, "I love You," she would say no more: she waited with eyes closed and hand extended.
"Assert yourself, Anastasia," I ordered huskily, to test her.