Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Smile painting

Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Smile painting
Rembrandt The Return of the Prodigal Son painting
Edvard Munch The Scream painting
For all my new assurance that I was not only the Grand Tutor but the GILES Himself, I was apprehensive; the descent seemed long, and for all I knew Bray might attack me in the dark and try to stop the lift somehow before it reached bottom. His odor, though faint, was particularly disagreeable in the closed compartment; what was more, he put a hard-boned arm about my shoulders and said in a friendly way, "You're what they callin love with Anastasia, I presume." When I didn't answer -- I was wondering, in fact, how a man about to die could concern himself with such a subject -- he added: "One would think, to look at her, she'd be a first-rate breeder. Why do you suppose she's borne no children?"
The lift stopped at his last word. I grasped my stick, ready to strike should he assault me in his death-throes. But when the doors opened -- on a red-glimmering chamber, lined with racks of flat round cans stacked edgewise from floor to ceiling -- nothing happened.
"This is what they call the Mouth," Bray said, stepping out. He gave a little sigh, as if loath to end the other conversation. "We'll use it for presenting our credentials. The Belly itself is through a little door over there, which WESCAC has to open."