Albert Bierstadt The Last of the BuffaloDante Gabriel Rossetti Venus VerticordiaClaude Monet Haystack at Giverny
bother about the egg,' said Susan. The voice had made her jaw ache. It worried her even more than it worried Albert. After all, it was her mouth. 'I want to go home!'
'You are home,' said Albert.
'This place? This isn't my home!'
'Yeah? What's the inscription on the big clock?'
"'Too Late",' said Susan promptly.
'Where are the beehives?'
'In the orchard.'
'How many to take his shirt off!'
'I mean I can't help it! That's not my fault! It's not fair!'
'Really? Oh, why didn't you say?' said Albert sourly. 'That cuts a lot of thin ice, that does. I should just go out now, if I was you, and tell the universe that it's not plates've we got?''Seven–’ Susan shut her mouth firmly.'See? It's home to part of you,' said Albert.'Look . . . Albert,' said Susan, trying sweet reason in case it worked any better this time round, 'maybe there is . . . someone. . . sort of . . . in charge of things, but I'm really no‑one special . . . I mean . . .''Yeah? How come the horse knows you?''Yes, but I really am just a normal girl–’'Normal girls didn't get a My Little Binky set on their third birthday!' snapped Albert. 'Your dad took it away. The Master was very upset about that. He was trying.''I mean I'm an ordinary kid!''Listen, ordinary kids get a xylophone. They don't just ask their grandad
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