Claude Monet Sunflowers painting

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"I'll get the door," Dr. Sear said briskly, "before some idiot barges in."
Anastasia called over her shoulder: "Better see that Mr. Greene's all right, too, don't you think?" Her voice, at least, was mild as always.
Peter Greene jubilantly punched my shoulder. "What's that if it ain't pure love?"
"Look here, Greene. . ."
"Pete.Okay?"
I had meant expostulation, not invitation to the window -- indeed, though I turned to him, wondering how the situation was to be handled, I endeavored to block the scene from his view with my head. Then above Mrs. Sear's moans, ever more amorous, Anastasia nervously asked, "What about the window, Kennard? Do you think anybody might look in?" and the doctor's wry response -- that it would disabuse Greene of an illusion or two if hedid happen to watch -- inspired me to turn the uncomfortable situation to pedagogical account.
"I think you should stay here and keep your eyes and ears open," I told him, as if I were the doctor and he my patient. "I have an idea." He consented readily, and I made haste to leave the observation-chamber, closing its door behind me as he stepped to