Sam looked through several more and selected one. It was of a colorfully dressed woman and a man walking along an empty dirt road. The woman cradled something in her arms and had turned to look back. The man, only his back visible, continued down the road. The surrounding colors were muted and seemed to fade into the daylight. Long shadows stretched to a dark thicket of trees beyond.
Sam seemed to be drawn into the painting, studying it for an unusually long time. She put it back in its place and then, still studying it, picked it up again.
“I’d like this one,” she sighed softly.
Winston was unimpressed by the picture, and although he didn’t actually say so, must have thought it a waste of money. He drove us back to the Ambassador and promised to return the next morning at nine o’clock.
