...pastel of his own small daughter, Marianne. Holding a limp-armed, smartly dressed doll in the crook of her elbow, she holds up a warning finger as if to say—“Shh, she’s asleep.” Like her doll, she is dressed in her best, her chubby arm framed in a ruff of white lace, her hair tied back with a blue satin bow. Her gaze is solemn, with the hint of a smile as she poses for her father. [http://www.nybooks.com/daily/2015/09/04/liotard-unexpected-likeness/]