Agnes escaped to the Art Museum. She wanted to see the Rodin exhibit. It would only be here another few days before heading to Pittsburgh. Norman hadn’t wanted to go when she did, and now he lay in bed recovering from that knife wound. Well, good for the attacker. He’d done what she now wished she’d done herself.
Of all things, Norman refusing to attend a Rodin exhibit. What kind of architect, she’d wondered at the time, wouldn’t want to see an exhibit of the most famous sculptor’s work, right here in Philadelphia, a short walk from home?
She walked up the long, wide steps and turned around. Philadelphia, her city –she could see all the way down the Parkway through Logan Circle and on to City Hall. Rittenhouse Square on the right. To her far right lay West Philadelphia, where the attack had taken place – right after Norman’s dinner with Mary Alden, the blonde flame from his Italy days.
She went into the museum and paid for her ticket and wandered among the works. She passed Rodin’s "Thinker" and scowled.
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