"I know what you mean," Ned murmurs. He thinks maybe that is important to Ginsberg because of what he does for a living, because he is the one behind so many recognizable things, thinking them up, making them with his wits and his hard work. Ned knows that he hadn't ever really thought about the people who make ads, before he met Ginsberg, but he should have. Nothing come from nowhere, after all. Everything has an origin, a history.

He moves on from the painting with a last look, wandering around the room with his hands clasped behind his back, quietly enjoying himself. He doesn't say much more for a while, but his enjoyment is obvious enough. Ned's never been the best at keeping what he thinks and feels from showing on his face, and he likes this. It's so much less pressure than he's used to on a date. More like what he'd always imagined it would be like - less of a contest or interrogation, and just two people having a good time together.

After some time, they wander into a room in which all but one or two of the paintings are of Biblical scenes - particularly gruesome ones, it seems to Ned, all martyrs and crucifixions. He can't help it; he laughs, says, "I'm sensing a pattern, here."