The Black Clock

The Black ClockStill Life with OnionsPaul Cezanne Poplar Trees
It's for Miss Sally Ann's sake you have to," I said; "for the sake of all the patients. I want this floozy out in the Powerhouse where she belongs, so she won't take advantage of helpless people. Do you think you'll be okay with her?"
Anastasia saw my motive and protested.
"I'll be okay," Greene said, and wiped his palms grimly on his trouser-thighs.
"No, please, George. . ." said Anastasia.
"She may try to seduce you," I warned him, for her benefit. "She's awfully aggressive. Not like her sister."
"George. . ."
With a fierce squint Greene took her arm. "You come along with me. Don't try to flooze me none, neither."
More gently I took my mother's elbow; clucking and smiling, she bagged her yarn and obediently rose.
"At least give me a minute to fix myhair!" Anastasia said. Her tone had changed, was newly resolute and guileful, as was her face. I surmised, not without mixed feelings, that what had been at odds -- her wish to assert herself as I'd advised and her wish to go to