" Weena turned back to Rachel, "So you go about and look at paintings?"Rachel sighed. "No it's far more than that. I've been learning how each work fi...s into a pattern. It has a place in the work of its artist. And a place in the genre – painting or drawing or wood carving or sculpture. And a place in the wider world of art. Do you know who Fred Williams was?"Weena shook her head."Williams was from Melbourne, but spent time studying in England. He died about 30 years ago. When he returned from. My skin felt like it was burning again where it had been in contact with him, and though I knew that was all in my head, it made a lick of heat curl through my insides, made me long for... inappropriate, Sierra! I'm sure my face was purple, Alistair's was as well, and I suddenly wondered how long I'd been lying there. Before he could overcome his shock to say anything, I fled, pushing through the tent flaps, stumbling to my feet and hoping to rush out of camp before having to speak to. More

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