Ordinarily such a rebuke from a water brother, most especially from Jill, would have shut Mike up, forced him to spend the following night in trying to understand his fault.  But this was art in which he was sure of himself.  The portrayed statue was the first thing he had seen on Earth which felt like a breath of home to him.  Although it was clearly a picture of a human woman it gave him a feeling that a Martian Old One should be somewhere around, responsible for its creation. "It is beauty," he insisted stubbornly. "She has her own face.  I grok."