The Water lily Pond

The Water lily Pond
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
I did--a year or so ago." ¡¡¡¡ "I--like it. I think it supremely beautiful!" ¡¡¡¡ "Ah well--other people have said so too. Yes, there's money in it, if I could only see about getting it published. I have other compositions to go with it, too; I wish I could bring them out; for I haven't made a five-pound note out of any of them yet. These publishing people-- they want the copyright of an obscure composer's work, such as mine is, for almost less than I should have to pay a person for making, a fair manuscript copy of the score. The one you speak of I have lent to various friends about here and Melchester, and so it has got to be sung a little. But music is a poor staff to lean on-- I am giving it up entirely. You must go into trade if you want to make money nowadays. The wine business is what I am thinking of. This is my forthcoming list--it is not issued yet--but you can take one." ¡¡¡¡ He handed Jude an advertisement list of several pages in booklet shape, ornamentally margined with a red line, in which were set forth the various clarets, champagnes, ports, sherries, and other wines with which he purposed to initiate his new venture. It took Jude more than by surprise that the man with the soul was thus and thus; and he felt that he could not open up his confidences.

Venus and Cupid

Venus and Cupid
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring
virgin of the rocks
Woman with a Parasol
¡¡¡¡ Jude hastened on, and soon had the pleasure of observing a man in a black coat and a black slouched felt hat no considerable distance ahead. Stretching out his legs yet more widely he stalked after. "A hungry soul in pursuit of a full soul!" he said. "I must speak to that man!" ¡¡¡¡ He could not, however, overtake the musician before he had entered his own house, and then arose the question if this were an expedient time to call. Whether or not he decided to do so there and then, now that he had got here, the distance home being too great for him to wait till late in the afternoon. This man of soul would understand scant ceremony, and might be quite a perfect adviser in a case in which an earthly and illegitimate passion had cunningly obtained entrance into his heart through the opening afforded for religion. ¡¡¡¡ Jude accordingly rang the bell, and was admitted. ¡¡¡¡ The musician came to him in a moment, and being respectably dressed, good-looking, and frank in manner, Jude obtained a favourable reception. He was nevertheless conscious that there would be a certain awkwardness in explaining his errand. ¡¡¡¡ "I have been singing in the choir of a little church near Melchester," he said. "And we have this week practised 'The Foot of the Cross,' which I understand, sir, that you composed?"

The Three Ages of Woman

The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
¡¡¡¡ As he walked humming the air on his way home, Jude fell to musing on its composer, and the reasons why he composed it. What a man of sympathies he must be! Perplexed and harassed as he himself was about Sue and Arabella, and troubled as was his conscience by the complication of his position, how he would like to know that man!" He of all men would understand my difficulties," said the impulsive Jude. If there were any person in the world to choose as a confidant, this composer would be the one, for he must have suffered, and throbbed, and yearned. ¡¡¡¡ In brief, ill as he could afford the time and money for the journey, Fawley resolved, like the child that he was, to go to Kennetbridge the very next Sunday. He duly started, early in the morning, for it was only by a series of crooked railways that he could get to the town. About mid-day he reached it, and crossing the bridge into the quaint old borough he inquired for the house of the composer. ¡¡¡¡ They told him it was a red brick building some little way further on. Also that the gentleman himself had just passed along the street not five minutes before. ¡¡¡¡ "Which way?" asked Jude with alacrity. ¡¡¡¡ "Straight along homeward from church."

William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting

William Bouguereau The Nut Gatherers Painting
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
¡¡¡¡ He walked out to this parish twice every Sunday, and sometimes in the week. One evening about Easter the choir met for practice, and a new hymn which Jude had heard of as being by a Wessex composer was to be tried and prepared for the following week. It turned out to be a strangely emotional composition. As they all sang it over and over again its harmonies grew upon Jude, and moved him exceedingly. ¡¡¡¡ When they had finished he went round to the organist to make inquiries. The score was in manuscript, the name of the composer being at the head, together with the title of the hymn: "The Foot of the Cross." ¡¡¡¡ "Yes," said the organist. "He is a local man. He is a professional musician at Kennetbridge--between here and Christminster. The vicar knows him. He was brought up and educated in Christminster traditions, which accounts for the quality of the piece. I think he plays in the large church there, and has a surpliced choir. He comes to Melchester sometimes, and once tried to get the cathedral organ when the post was vacant. The hymn is getting about everywhere this Easter."

The Kitchen Maid

The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
¡¡¡¡ He now returned with feverish desperation to his study for the priesthood-- in the recognition that the single-mindedness of his aims, and his fidelity to the cause, had been more than questionable of late. His passion for Sue troubled his soul; yet his lawful abandonment to the society of Arabella for twelve hours seemed instinctively a worse thing--even though she had not told him of her Sydney husband till afterwards. He had, he verily believed, overcome all tendency to fly to liquor--which, indeed, he had never done from taste, but merely as an escape from intolerable misery of mind. Yet he perceived with despondency that, taken all round, he was a man of too many passions to make a good clergyman; the utmost he could hope for was that in a life of constant internal warfare between flesh and spirit the former might not always be victorious. ¡¡¡¡ As a hobby, auxiliary to his readings in Divinity, he developed his slight skill in church-music and thorough-bass, till he could join in part-singing from notation with some accuracy. A mile or two from Melchester there was a restored village church, to which Jude had originally gone to fix the new columns and capitals. By this means he had become acquainted with the organist, and the ultimate result was that he joined the choir as a bass voice.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
'O ghastly glories of saints, dead limbs of gibbeted Gods!'"... ¡¡¡¡ "Sue, you are not a good friend of mine to talk like that!" ¡¡¡¡ "Then I won't, dear Jude!" The emotional throat-note had come back, and she turned her face away. ¡¡¡¡ "I still think Christminster has much that is glorious; though I was resentful because I couldn't get there." He spoke gently, and resisted his impulse to pique her on to tears. ¡¡¡¡ "It is an ignorant place, except as to the townspeople, artizans, drunkards, and paupers," she said, perverse still at his differing from her. "THEY see life as it is, of course; but few of the people in the colleges do. You prove it in your own person. You are one of the very men Christminster was intended for when the colleges were founded; a man with a passion for learning, but no money, or opportunities, or friends. But you were elbowed off the pavement by the millionaires' sons." ¡¡¡¡ "Well, I can do without what it confers. I care for something higher." ¡¡¡¡ "And I for something broader, truer," she insisted. "At present intellect in Christminster is pushing one way, and religion the other; and so they stand stock-still, like two rams butting each other." ¡¡¡¡ "What would Mr. Phillotson----" ¡¡¡¡ "It is a place full of fetishists and ghost-seers!"

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
There was another long silence. He felt that she was treating him cruelly, though he could not quite say in what way. Her very helplessness seemed to make her so much stronger than he. ¡¡¡¡ "I am awfully ignorant on general matters, although I have worked so hard," he said, to turn the subject. "I am absorbed in theology, you know. And what do you think I should be doing just about now, if you weren't here? I should be saying my evening prayers. I suppose you wouldn't like----" ¡¡¡¡ "Oh no, no," she answered, "I would rather not, if you don't mind. I should seem so--such a hypocrite." ¡¡¡¡ "I thought you wouldn't join, so I didn't propose it. You must remember that I hope to be a useful minister some day." ¡¡¡¡ "To be ordained, I think you said?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes." ¡¡¡¡ "Then you haven't given up the idea?--I thought that perhaps you had by this time." ¡¡¡¡ "Of course not. I fondly thought at first that you felt as I do about that, as you were so mixed up in Christminster Anglicanism. And Mr. Phillotson----" ¡¡¡¡ "I have no respect for Christminster whatever, except, in a qualified degree, on its intellectual side," said Sue Bridehead earnestly. "My friend I spoke of took that out of me. He was the most irreligious man I ever knew, and the most moral. And intellect at Christminster is new wine in old bottles. The mediaevalism of Christminster must go, be sloughed off, or Christminster itself will have to go. To be sure, at times one couldn't help having a sneaking liking for the traditions of the old faith, as preserved by a section of the thinkers there in touching and simple sincerity; but when I was in my saddest, rightest mind I always felt,

William Bouguereau Biblis painting

Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
not. Better women would not. People say I must be cold-natured--sexless--on account of it. But I won't have it! Some of the most passionately erotic poets have been the most self-contained in their daily lives." ¡¡¡¡ "Have you told Mr. Phillotson about this university scholar friend?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--long ago. I have never made any secret of it to anybody." ¡¡¡¡ "What did he say?" ¡¡¡¡ "He did not pass any criticism--only said I was everything to him, whatever I did; and things like that." ¡¡¡¡ Jude felt much depressed; she seemed to get further and further away from him with her strange ways and curious unconsciousness of gender. ¡¡¡¡ "Aren't you REALLY vexed with me, dear Jude?" she suddenly asked, in a voice of such extraordinary tenderness that it hardly seemed to come from the same woman who had just told her story so lightly. "I would rather offend anybody in the world than you, I think!" ¡¡¡¡ "I don't know whether I am vexed or not. I know I care very much about you!" ¡¡¡¡ "I care as much for you as for anybody I ever met." ¡¡¡¡ "You don't care MORE! There, I ought not to say that. Don't answer it!"

American Day Dream

American Day Dream
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
heavens!--what did you do then?" ¡¡¡¡ "Ah--now you are angry with me!" she said, a contralto note of tragedy coming suddenly into her silvery voice. "I wouldn't have told you if I had known!" ¡¡¡¡ "No, I am not. Tell me all." ¡¡¡¡ "Well, I invested his money, poor fellow, in a bubble scheme, and lost it. I lived about London by myself for some time, and then I returned to Christminster, as my father--who was also in London, and had started as an art metal-worker near Long-Acre-- wouldn't have me back; and I got that occupation in the artist-shop where you found me.... I said you didn't know how bad I was!" ¡¡¡¡ Jude looked round upon the arm-chair and its occupant, as if to read more carefully the creature he had given shelter to. His voice trembled as he said: "However you have lived, Sue, I believe you are as innocent as you are unconventional!" ¡¡¡¡ "I am not particularly innocent, as you see, now that I have ¡¡¡¡ 'twitched the robe From that blank lay-figure your fancy draped,'" ¡¡¡¡ said she, with an ostensible sneer, though he could hear that she was brimming with tears. "But I have never yielded myself to any lover, if that's what you mean! I have remained as I began." ¡¡¡¡ "I quite believe you. But some women would not have remained as they began."

Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee

Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
yes. He died, poor fellow, two or three years after he had taken his degree and left Christminster." ¡¡¡¡ "You saw a good deal of him, I suppose?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes. We used to go about together--on walking tours, reading tours, and things of that sort--like two men almost. He asked me to live with him, and I agreed to by letter. But when I joined him in London I found he meant a different thing from what I meant. He wanted me to be his mistress, in fact, but I wasn't in love with him-- and on my saying I should go away if he didn't agree to MY plan, he did so. We shared a sitting-room for fifteen months; and he became a leader-writer for one of the great London dailies; till he was taken ill, and had to go abroad. He said I was breaking his heart by holding out against him so long at such close quarters; he could never have believed it of woman. I might play that game once too often, he said. He came home merely to die. His death caused a terrible remorse in me for my cruelty-- though I hope he died of consumption and not of me entirely. l went down to Sandbourne to his funeral, and was his only mourner. He left me a little money--because I broke his heart, I suppose. That's how men are--so much better than women!"

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
He saw what a curious and cunning glamour the neighbourhood of the place had exercised over him. To get there and live there, to move among the churches and halls and become imbued with the GENIUS LOCI, had seemed to his dreaming youth, as the spot shaped its charms to him from its halo on the horizon, the obvious and ideal thing to do. "Let me only get there," he had said with the fatuousness of Crusoe over his big boat, "and the rest is but a matter of time and energy." It would have been far better for him in every way if he had never come within sight and sound of the delusive precincts, had gone to some busy commercial town with the sole object of making money by his wits, and thence surveyed his plan in true perspective. Well, all that was clear to him amounted to this, that the whole scheme had burst up, like an iridescent soap-bubble, under the touch of a reasoned inquiry. He looked back at himself along the vista of his past years, and his thought was akin to Heine's: ¡¡¡¡ Above the youth's inspired and flashing eyes I see the motley mocking fool's-cap rise! ¡¡¡¡ Fortunately he had not been allowed to bring his disappointment into his dear Sue's life by involving her in this collapse. And the painful details of his awakening to a sense of his limitations should now be spared her as far as possible. After all, she had only know a little part of the miserable struggle in which he had been engaged thus unequipped, poor, and unforeseeing.

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ Meanwhile the academic dignitaries to whom Jude had written vouchsafed no answer, and the young man was thus thrown back entirely on himself, as formerly, with the added gloom of a weakened hope. By indirect inquiries he soon perceived clearly what he had long uneasily suspected, that to qualify himself for certain open scholarships and exhibitions was the only brilliant course. But to do this a good deal of coaching would be necessary, and much natural ability. It was next to impossible that a man reading on his own system, however widely and thoroughly, even over the prolonged period of ten years, should be able to compete with those who had passed their lives under trained teachers and had worked to ordained lines. ¡¡¡¡ The other course, that of buying himself in, so to speak, seemed the only one really open to men like him, the difficulty being simply of a material kind. With the help of his information he began to reckon the extent of this material obstacle, and ascertained, to his dismay, that, at the rate at which, with the best of fortune, he would be able to save money, fifteen years must elapse before he could be in a position to forward testimonials to the head of a college and advance to a matriculation examination. The undertaking was hopeless.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
¡¡¡¡ When the letters were posted Jude mentally began to criticize them; he wished they had not been sent. "It is just one of those intrusive, vulgar, pushing, applications which are so common in these days," he thought. "Why couldn't I know better than address utter strangers in such a way? I may be an impostor, and idle scamp, a man with a bad character, for all that they know to the contrary.... Perhaps that's what I am!" ¡¡¡¡ Nevertheless, he found himself clinging to the hope of some reply as to his one last chance of redemption. He waited day after day, saying that it was perfectly absurd to expect, yet expecting. While he waited he was suddenly stirred by news about Phillotson. Phillotson was giving up the school near Christminster, for a larger one further south, in Mid-Wessex. What this meant; how it would affect his cousin; whether, as seemed possible, it was a practical move of the schoolmaster's towards a larger income, in view of a provision for two instead of one, he would not allow himself to say. And the tender relations between Phillotson and the young girl of whom Jude was passionately enamoured effectually made it repugnant to Jude's tastes to apply to Phillotson for advice on his own scheme.

Head of Christ

Head of Christ
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
The next week accordingly he sought it. What at first seemed an opportunity occurred one afternoon when he saw an elderly gentleman, who had been pointed out as the head of a particular college, walking in the public path of a parklike enclosure near the spot at which Jude chanced to be sitting. The gentleman came nearer, and Jude looked anxiously at his face. It seemed benign, considerate, yet rather reserved. On second thoughts Jude felt that he could not go up and address him; but he was sufficiently influenced by the incident to think what a wise thing it would be for him to state his difficulties by letter to some of the best and most judicious of these old masters, and obtain their advice. ¡¡¡¡ During the next week or two he accordingly placed himself in such positions about the city as would afford him glimpses of several of the most distinguished among the provosts, wardens, and other heads of houses; and from those he ultimately selected five whose physiognomies seemed to say to him that they were appreciative and far-seeing men. To these five he addressed letters, briefly stating his difficulties, and asking their opinion on his stranded situation.

leonardo da vinci self portrait

leonardo da vinci self portrait
Hylas and the Nymphs
jesus christ on the cross
klimt painting the kiss
¡¡¡¡ Still, the remark was sufficient to withdraw Jude's attention from the imaginative world he had lately inhabited, in which an abstract figure, more or less himself, was steeping his mind in a sublimation of the arts and sciences, and making his calling and election sure to a seat in the paradise of the learned. He was set regarding his prospects in a cold northern light. He had lately felt that he could not quite satisfy himself in his Greek-- in the Greek of the dramatists particularly. So fatigued was he sometimes after his day's work that he could not maintain the critical attention necessary for thorough application. He felt that he wanted a coach--a friend at his elbow to tell him in a moment what sometimes would occupy him a weary month in extracting from unanticipative, clumsy books. ¡¡¡¡ It was decidedly necessary to consider facts a little more closely than he had done of late. What was the good, after all, of using up his spare hours in a vague labour called "private study" without giving an outlook on practicabilities? ¡¡¡¡ "I ought to have thought of this before," he said, as he journeyed back. "It would have been better never to have embarked in the scheme at all than to do it without seeing clearly where I am going, or what I am aiming at.... This hovering outside the walls of the colleges, as if expecting some arm to be stretched out from them to lift me inside, won't do! I must get special information."

Woman with a Parasol

Woman with a Parasol
A Greek Beauty
A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
¡¡¡¡ "Oh, they never look at anything that folks like we can understand," the carter continued, by way of passing the time. "On'y foreign tongues used in the days of the Tower of Babel, when no two families spoke alike. They read that sort of thing as fast as a night-hawk will whir. 'Tis all learning there-- nothing but learning, except religion. And that's learning too, for I never could understand it. Yes, 'tis a serious-minded place. Not but there's wenches in the streets o' nights.... You know, I suppose, that they raise pa'sons there like radishes in a bed? And though it do take--how many years, Bob?--five years to turn a lirruping hobble-de-hoy chap into a solemn preaching man with no corrupt passions, they'll do it, if it can be done, and polish un off like the workmen they be, and turn un out wi' a long face, and a long black coat and waistcoat, and a religious collar and hat, same as they used to wear in the Scriptures, so that his own mother wouldn't know un sometimes.... There, 'tis their business, like anybody else's." ¡¡¡¡ "But how should you know"

Hylas and the Nymphs

Hylas and the Nymphs
jesus christ on the cross
klimt painting the kiss
leonardo da vinci self portrait
Madonna Litta
¡¡¡¡ Vilbert was an itinerant quack-doctor, well known to the rustic population, and absolutely unknown to anybody else, as he, indeed, took care to be, to avoid inconvenient investigations. Cottagers formed his only patients, and his Wessex-wide repute was among them alone. His position was humbler and his field more obscure than those of the quacks with capital and an organized system of advertising. He was, in fact, a survival. The distances he traversed on foot were enormous, and extended nearly the whole length and breadth of Wessex. Jude had one day seen him selling a pot of coloured lard to an old woman as a certain cure for a bad leg, the woman arranging to pay a guinea, in instalments of a shilling a fortnight, for the precious salve, which, according to the physician, could only be obtained from a particular animal which grazed on Mount Sinai, and was to be captured only at great risk to life and limb. Jude, though he already had his doubts about this gentleman's medicines, felt him to be unquestionably a travelled personage, and one who might be a trustworthy source of information on matters not strictly professional. ¡¡¡¡ "I s'pose you've been to Christminster, Physician?" ¡¡¡¡ "I have--many times," replied the long thin man. "That's one of my centres." ¡¡¡¡ "It's a wonderful city for scholarship and religion?"

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
¡¡¡¡ "It is a place that teachers of men spring from and go to." ¡¡¡¡ "It is what you may call a castle, manned by scholarship and religion." ¡¡¡¡ After this figure he was silent a long while, till he added: ¡¡¡¡ "It would just suit me." ¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡ IV ¡¡¡¡ WALKING somewhat slowly by reason of his concentration, the boy-- an ancient man in some phases of thought, much younger than his years in others--was overtaken by a light-footed pedestrian, whom, notwithstanding the gloom, he could perceive to be wearing an extraordinarily tall hat, a swallow-tailed coat, and a watch-chain that danced madly and threw around scintillations of sky-light as its owner swung along upon a pair of thin legs and noiseless boots. Jude, beginning to feel lonely, endeavoured to keep up with him. ¡¡¡¡ "Well, my man! I'm in a hurry, so you'll have to walk pretty fast if you keep alongside of me. Do you know who I am?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, I think. Physician Vilbert?" ¡¡¡¡ "Ah--l'm known everywhere, I see! That comes of being a public benefactor."

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
¡¡¡¡ "Well, 'tis oonly what has come in my way," said the carter unboastfully. "I've never been there, no more than you; but I've picked up the knowledge here and there, and you be welcome to it. A-getting about the world as I do, and mixing with all classes of society, one can't help hearing of things. A friend o' mine, that used to clane the boots at the Crozier Hotel in Christminster when he was in his prime, why, I knowed un as well as my own brother in his later years." ¡¡¡¡ Jude continued his walk homeward alone, pondering so deeply that he forgot to feel timid. He suddenly grew older. It had been the yearning of his heart to find something to anchor on, to cling to--for some place which he could call admirable. Should he find that place in this city if he could get there? Would it be a spot in which, without fear of farmers, or hindrance, or ridicule, he could watch and wait, and set himself to some mighty undertaking like the men of old of whom he had heard? As the halo had been to his eyes when gazing at it a quarter of an hour earlier, so was the spot mentally to him as he pursued his dark way. ¡¡¡¡ "It is a city of light," he said to himself.

American Day Dream

American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ "Now don't you interrupt, my boy. Never interrupt your senyers. Move the fore hoss aside, Bobby; here's som'at coming.... You must mind that I be a-talking of the college life. 'Em lives on a lofty level; there's no gainsaying it, though I myself med not think much of 'em. As we be here in our bodies on this high ground, so be they in their minds--noble-minded men enough, no doubt-- some on 'em--able to earn hundreds by thinking out loud. And some on 'em be strong young fellows that can earn a'most as much in silver cups. As for music, there's beautiful music everywhere in Christminster. You med be religious, or you med not, but you can't help striking in your homely note with the rest. And there's a street in the place--the main street--that ha'n't another like it in the world. I should think I did know a little about Christminster!" ¡¡¡¡ By this time the horses had recovered breath and bent to their collars again. Jude, throwing a last adoring look at the distant halo, turned and walked beside his remarkably well-informed friend, who had no objection to telling him as they moved on more yet of the city-- its towers and halls and churches. The waggon turned into a cross-road, whereupon Jude thanked the carter warmly for his information, and said he only wished he could talk half as well about Christminster as he.

American Day Dream

American Day Dream
Biblis painting
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ "Now don't you interrupt, my boy. Never interrupt your senyers. Move the fore hoss aside, Bobby; here's som'at coming.... You must mind that I be a-talking of the college life. 'Em lives on a lofty level; there's no gainsaying it, though I myself med not think much of 'em. As we be here in our bodies on this high ground, so be they in their minds--noble-minded men enough, no doubt-- some on 'em--able to earn hundreds by thinking out loud. And some on 'em be strong young fellows that can earn a'most as much in silver cups. As for music, there's beautiful music everywhere in Christminster. You med be religious, or you med not, but you can't help striking in your homely note with the rest. And there's a street in the place--the main street--that ha'n't another like it in the world. I should think I did know a little about Christminster!" ¡¡¡¡ By this time the horses had recovered breath and bent to their collars again. Jude, throwing a last adoring look at the distant halo, turned and walked beside his remarkably well-informed friend, who had no objection to telling him as they moved on more yet of the city-- its towers and halls and churches. The waggon turned into a cross-road, whereupon Jude thanked the carter warmly for his information, and said he only wished he could talk half as well about Christminster as he.

The Sacrifice of Abraham painting

The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
The Water lily Pond
Somewhat unwillingly, Craddock allowed himself to be guided round the corner of the house and along to the stable yard. Stoddart-West pushed open a heavy door, stretched up, and turned on a rather feeble electric light. The harness room, once the acme of Victorian spit and polish, was now the sad repository of everything that no one wanted. Broken garden chairs, rusted old garden implements, a vast decrepit mowing-machine, rusted spring mattresses, hammocks, and disintegrated tennis nets.
"We come here a good deal," said Alexander. "One can really be private here."
There were certain tokens of occupancy about. The decayed mattresses had been piled up to make a kind of divan, there was an old rusted table on which reposed a large tin of chocolate biscuits, there was a hoard of apples, a tin of toffee, and a jig-saw puzzle.
"It really is a clue, sir," said Stoddart-West eagerly, his eyes gleaming behind his spectacles. "We found it this afternoon."
"We've been hunting for days. In the bushes –"
"And inside hollow trees –"
"And we went all through the ash bins –"

the Night Watch

the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
Inspector Craddock!"
The eager whisper made the inspector jump.
He had been just on the point of ringing the front-door bell.
Alexander and his friend Stoddart-West emerged cautiously from the shadows.
"We heard your car, and we wanted to get hold of you."
"Well, let's come inside." Craddock's hand went out to the door bell again, but Alexander pulled at his coat with the eagerness of a pawing dog.
"We've found a clue," he breathed.
"Yes, we've found a clue." Stoddart-West echoed.
"Damn that girl," thought Craddock unamiably.
"Splendid," he said in a perfunctory manner. "Let's go inside the house and look at it."
"No," Alexander was insistent. "Someone's sure to interrupt. Come to the harness room. We'll guide you."

The Jewel Casket

The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
the night watch by rembrandt
Now there," said the doctor, "you have got something odd. It is exactly that fact that leads to believe that I have been, as old Morris puts it, a damned fool. You see, it's obviously not a case of small doses of arsenic administered regularly – which is what you might call the classic method of arsenic poisoning. Crackenthorpe has never had any chronic gastric trouble. In a way, that's what makes these sudden violent attacks seem unlikely. So, assuming they are not due to natural causes, it looks as though the poisoner is muffing it every time – which hardly makes sense."
"Giving an inadequate dose, you mean?"
"Yes. On the other hand, Crackenthorpe's got a strong constitution and what might do in another man, doesn't do him in. there's always personal idiosyncrasy to be reckoned with. But you'd think that by now the poisoner – unless he's unusually timid – would have stepped up the dose. Why hasn't he?"
"That is," he added, “if there is a poisoner which there probably isn't! Probably all my ruddy imagination from start to finish."
"It's an odd problem, the inspector agreed. It doesn't seem to make sense."

Sweet Nothings

Sweet Nothings
The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
The Broken Pitcher
Then he decided to speak frankly.
"Throwing discretion aside, Doctor, there are people who stand to benefit pretty considerably from Luther Crackenthorpe's death." The doctor nodded. "He's an old man - and a hale and hearty one. He may live to be ninety odd?"
"Easily. He spends his life taking care of himself, and his constitution is sound."
"And his sons - and daughter - are all getting on, and they are all feeling the pinch?"
"You leave Emma out of it. She's no poisoner. These attacks only happen when the others are there – not when she and he are alone."
"An elementary precaution – if she's the one," the inspector thought, but was careful not to say aloud.
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Surely - I'm ignorant in these matters - but supposing just as a hypothesis that arsenic was administered - hasn't Crackenthorpe been very lucky not to succumb?"

Return of the Prodigal Son

Return of the Prodigal Son

Return of the Prodigal Son
Samson And Delilah
seated nude
Spring Breeze

And what was the result of your inquiries?"
"It seemed that what I suspected could not possibly be true. Mr. Crackenthorpe assured me that he had similar attacks before I attended him - and from the same cause, he said. They had always taken place when there was too much rich food about."
"Which was when the house was full? With the family? Or guests?"
"Yes. That seemed reasonable enough. But frankly, Craddock, I wasn't happy. I went so far as to write to old Dr. Morris. He was my senior partner and retired soon after I joined him. Crackenthorpe was his patient originally. I asked about these earlier attacks that the old man had had."
"And what response did you get?"
Quimper grinned.
"I got a flea in the ear. I was more or less told not to be a damned fool. Well - he shrugged his shoulders – presumably I was a damned fool."
"I wonder." Craddock was thoughtfully.

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
War time!" snapped Mr. Wimborne with waspish acerbity. "Yes, indeed, we were in Lincoln's Inn Fields at the outbreak of war and there was a direct hit on the house next door, and a great number of our records were destroyed. Not the really important documents, of course; they had been removed to the country of safety. But it caused a great deal of confusion. Of course, the Crackenthorpe business was in my father's hands at that time. He died six years ago. I dare say he may have been told about this so-called marriage of Edmund's - but on the face of it, it looks as though that marriage
Abstract Painting
even if contemplated, never took place, and so, no doubt, my father did not consider the story of nay importance. I must say, all this sounds very fishy to me. This coming forward, after all these years, and claiming a marriage and a legitimate son. Very fishy indeed. What proofs had she got, I'd like to know?"
"Just so," said Craddock. "What would her position, or her son's position be?"
"The idea was, I suppose, that she would get the Crackenthorpes to provide for her and for the boy."
"Yes, but I meant, what would she and the son be entitled to, legally speaking - if she could prove her claim?"
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
Mr. Wimborne eyed his visitor with the polite wariness characteristic of a family lawyer towards the police.
"What can I do for you, Inspector?"
"This letter…” Craddock pushed Martine's letter across the table. Mr. Wimborne touched it with a distasteful finger but did not pick it up. His colour rose very slightly and his lips tightened.
Rembrandt Painting
"Quite so," he said; “quite so! I received a letter from Miss Emma Crackenthorpe yesterday morning, informing me of her visit to Scotland Yard and of - ah – all the circumstances. I may say that I am at a loss to understand – quite at a loss - why I was not consulted about this letter at the time of its arrival! Most extraordinary! I should have been informed immediately…."
Inspector Craddock repeated soothingly such platitudes as seemed best calculated to reduce Mr. Wimborne to an amenable from of find.
"I'd no idea that there was ever any question of Edmund's having married," said Mr. Wimborne in an injured voice.
Inspector Craddock said that he supposed – in war time - and left it to trail away vaguely.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
If so, they didn't recognise her as the original of the photograph."
He added:
"We circularised the hotels – nobody registering as Martine Crackenthorpe anywhere. On receipt of your call from Paris, we checked up on Anna Stravinska. She was registered with other members of the company in a cheap hotel off Brook Green. Mostly theatricals there. She cleared out on the night of Thursday 19th after the show. No further record."
Craddock nodded. He suggested a line of further inquiries - though he had little hope of success from them.
The Singing Butler
After some thought, he rang up Wimborne, Henderson and Carstairs and asked for an appointment with Mr. Wimborne.
In due course, he was ushered into a particularly airless room where Mr. Wimborne was sitting behind a large old-fashioned desk covered with bundles of dusty-looking papers. Various deed boxes labelled Sir John ffouldes, dec., Lady Derrin, George Rowbotham, Esq., ornamented the walls; whether as relics of a bygone era or as part of present-day legal affairs, the inspector did not know.
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
He warned Craddock, however, that a definite answer was doubtful. The area in question had not only been occupied by the Germans at almost exactly that time, but subsequently that part of France had suffered severe war damage at the time of the invasion. Many building and records had been destroyed.
"But rest assured, my dear colleague, we shall do our best."
With this, he and Craddock took leave of each other.
Jack Vettriano Painting
On Craddock's return Sergeant Wetherall was waiting to report with gloomy relish:
"Accommodation address, sir – that's what 126 Elvers Crescent is. Quite respectable and all that."
"Any identifications?"
"No, nobody could recognise the photograph as that of a woman who had called for letters, but I don't think they would anyway - it's a month ago, very near, and a good many people use the place. It's actually a boarding-house for students."
"She might have stayed there under another name."
Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
It seemed unlikely, considering the word picture of Anna that had been given him by those who knew her. What was much more probable was that Anna had at one time known the girl Martine sufficiently intimately to be acquainted with the necessary details. It might have been Anna who wrote that letter to Emma Crackenthorpe and, if so, Anna would have been quite likely to have taken fright at any question of an investigation. Perhaps she had even thought it prudent to sever her connection with the Ballet Maritski. Again, where was she now?
And again, inevitably, Madame Joliet's answer seemed the most likely.
With a man….
Mary Cassatt painting
Before leaving Paris, Craddock discussed with Dessin the question of the woman named Martine. Dessin was inclined to agree with his English colleague that the matter had probably no connection with the woman found in the sarcophagus. All the same, he agreed, the matter ought to be investigated.
He assured Craddock that the Surete would do their best to discover if there actually was any record of a marriage between Lieutenant Edmund Crackenthorpe of the 4th Southshire Regiment and a French girl whose Christian name was Martine. Time - just prior to the fall of Dunkirk.
Mary Cassatt painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
None of this was helpful. All that seemed to emerge from it was that Anna Stravinska was a proficient liar. She was certainly not shooting deer with a peer in Scotland, and it seemed equally unlikely that she was on the sun deck of a liner cruising round the world. But neither was there any real reason to believe that her body had been found in a sarcophagus at Rutherford Hall. The identification by the girls and Madame Joliet was very uncertain and hesitating. It looked something like Anna, they all agreed. But really! All swollen up - it might be anybody!
The only fact that was established was that on the 19th of December Anna Stravinska had decided not to return to France, and that on the 20th December a woman resembling her in appearance had travelled to Brackhampton by the 4.33 train and had been strangled.
Edward Hopper Painting
If the woman in the sarcophagus was not Anna Stravinska, where was Anna now?
To that, Madame Joliet's answer was simple and inevitable.
"With a man!"
And it was probably the correct answer, Craddock reflected ruefully.
One other possibility had to be considered – raised by the casual remark that Anna had once referred to having an English husband.
Had that husband been Edmund Crackenthorpe?
Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
"She likes to pretend things – stories about having been the mistress of a Grand Duke – or of a great English financier - or how she worked for the Resistance in the war. Even a story about being a film star in Hollywood."
Another girl said:
"I think that really she had had a very tame bourgeois existence. She liked to in ballet because she thought it was romantic, but she was not a good dancer. You understand that if she were to say, ‘My father was a draper in Amiens.' that would not be romantic! So instead she made up things."
Van Gogh Sunflower
"Even in London," said the first girl, "she threw out hints about a very rich man who was going to take her on a cruise round the world, because she reminded him of his dead daughter who had died in a car accident. Quelle blague!"
"She told me she was going to stay with a rich lord in Scotland," said the second girl. "She said she would shoot the deer there."
Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
"She may have had a child before she adopted a stage life," said Craddock. "During the war, for instance."
"Ah! Dans la guerre. That is always possible. But if so, I know nothing about it."
"Who amongst the other girls were her closest friends?"
"I can give you two or three names – but she was not very intimate with anyone."
They could get nothing else useful from Madame Joliet.
Van Gogh Painting
Shown the compact, she said Anna had one of that kind, but so had most of the other girls. Anna had perhaps bought a fur coat in London – she did not know. "Me, I occupy myself with the rehearsals, with the stage lighting, with all the difficulties of my business. I have not time to notice what my artists wear."
After Madame Joliet, they interviewed the girls whose names she had given them. One or two of them had known Anna fairly well, but they all said that she had not been one to talk much about herself, and that when she did, it was, so one girl said, mostly lies.
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
"Very annoying for you."
"Ah! Me - I do not care. No doubt she passes the Christmas holiday with some man she has picked up. It is not my affair. I can find other girls - girls who will leap at the chance of dancing in the Ballet Maritski and who can dance as well – or better than Anna."
Madame Joliet paused and then asked with a sudden gleam of interest:
"Why do you want to find her? Has she come into money?"
Henri Matisse Painting
On the contrary," said Inspector Craddock politely. "We think she may have been murdered."
Madame Joliet relapsed into indifference.
"Ca se peut! It happens. Ah, well! She was a good Catholic. She went to Mass on Sundays, and no doubt to confession."
"Did she ever speak to you, Madame, of a son?"
"A son? Do you mean she had a child? That, now, I should consider most unlikely. These girls, all - all of them know a useful address to which to go. M. Dessin knows that as well as I do."
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
"I take my company to London for six weeks. We play at Torquay, at Bournemouth, at Eastbourne, at somewhere else I forget and at Hammersmith. Then we come back to France, but Anna - she does not come. She sends message only that she leaves the company, that she goes to live with her husband's family - some nonsense of that kind. I did not think it is true, myself. I think it more likely that she has met a man, you understand."
Inspector Craddock nodded. He perceived that that was what Madame Joliet would invariably think.
Marc Chagall Painting
"And it is no loss to me. I do not care. I can get girls just as good and better to come and dance, so I shrug the shoulders and do not think of it any more. Why should I? They are all the same, these girls, mad about men."
"What dates was this?"
"When we return to France? It was – yes - the Sunday before Christmas. And Anna she leaves two - or is it three - days before that? I cannot remember exactly…. But the end of the week at Hammersmith we have to dance without her - and it means rearranging things…. It was very naughty of her – but these girls - the moment they meet a man they are all the same. Only I say to everybody. ‘Zut, I do not take her back, that one!’"
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
the contrary, big box-office business," said Dessin. "And that was three years ago. You should not bear malice. Now about this girl, Anna Stravinska."
"Well, what about her?" said Madame cautiously.
"Is she Russian?" asked Inspector Craddock.
"No, indeed. You mean, because of her name? But they all call themselves names like that, these girls. She was not important, she did not dance well, she was not particularly good-looking. Elle etait assez bien, c’est tout. She danced well enough for the corps de ballet – but no solos."
The Birth of Venus
Was she French?"
"Perhaps. She had a French passport. But she told me once that she had an English husband."
"She told you that she had an English husband? Alive - or dead?"
Madame Joliet shrugged her shoulders.
"Dead, or he had left her. How should I know which? These girls - there is always some trouble with men –"
"When did you last see her?"
The Birth of Venus

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
"It could be," he said. "I can't go further than that. Who was she? What do you know about her?"
"Almost less than nothing," said the other cheerfully. "She was not important, you see. And the Ballet Maritski - it is not important, either. It plays in suburban theatres and goes on tour – it has no real names, no stars, no famous ballerinas. But I will take you to see Madame Joliet who runs it."
Madame Joliet was a brisk business-like Frenchwoman with a shrewd eye, a small moustache, and a good deal of adipose tissue.
Bouguereau William
Me, I do not like the police!" She scowled at them, without camouflaging her dislike of the visit. "Always, if they can, they make me embarrassments."
"No, no, Madame, you must not say that," said Dessin, who was a tall thin melancholy-looking man. "When have I ever caused you embarrassments?"
"Over that little fool who drank the carbolic acid," said Madame Joliet promptly. "And all because she has fallen in love with the chef d’orchestre - who does not care for women and has other tastes. Over that you made the big brouhaha! Which is not good for my beautiful Ballet."
Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
You know," said Cedric, reprovingly, "you shouldn't go about thinking everyone wants to marry you. You're quite a good-looking girl but not as good-looking as all that. There's a name for that sort of thing - it grows on you and you get worse. Actually, you're the last girl in the world I should care to marry. The last girl."
"Indeed?" said Lucy. "You needn't rub it in. perhaps you’d prefer me as a stepmother."
"What's that?" Cedric stared at her stupefied.
"You heard me," said Lucy, and went into her room and shut the door.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Dermot Craddock was fraternising with Armand Dessin of the Paris Prefecture. The two men had met on one or two occasions and got on well together. Since Craddock spoke French fluently, most of their conversation was conducted in that language.
"It is an idea only," Dessin warned him, "I have a picture here of the corps de ballet – that is she, the fourth from the left - it says anything to you, yes?"
Inspector Craddock said that actually it didn't. A strangled young woman is not easy to recognise, and in this picture all the young women concerned were heavily made up and were wearing extravagant bird headdresses.Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Don't wait too long. These opportunities should not be missed by a young woman anxious to make her way in the world."
Again his teeth flashed.
"Good night, Miss Eyelesbarrow, sleep well."
"Well," said Lucy to herself, "well… this is all very interesting…."
On her way up to bed, Lucy encountered Cedric on the stairs.
"Look here, Lucy, there's something I want to say to you."
"Do you want me to marry you and come to Iviza and look after you?"
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Cedric looked very much taken aback, and slightly alarmed.
"I never thought of such a thing."
"Sorry. My mistake."
"I just wanted to know if you've a timetable in the house?"
"Is that all? There's one on the hall table."
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
shall be leaving early in the morning," he explained, "but I want to tell you how struck I have been by your ability."
"Thank you," said Lucy, feeling a little surprised.
"I feel that your talents are wasted here – definitely wasted."
"Do you? I don't."
At any rate, he can't ask me to marry him, thought Lucy. He's got a wife already.
Modern Art Painting
"I suggest that having very kindly seen us through this lamentable crisis, you call upon me in London. If you will ring up and make an appointment, I will leave instructions with my secretary. The truth is that we could use someone of your outstanding ability in the firm. We could discuss fully in what field your talents would be most ably employed. I can offer you, Miss Eyelesbarrow, a very good salary indeed, with brilliant prospects. I think you will be agreeably surprised."
His smile was magnanimous.
Lucy said demurely:
"Thank you, Mr. Crackenthorpe, I'll think about it."
Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
Rather to her surprise Lucy was aware of a queer fascination. There was a quality of charm about Alfred, perhaps due to sheer animal magnetism. She laughed and slipped from his encircling arm.
"This is not time for dalliance. there's dinner to think about."
"So there is, Lucy, and you're a lovely cook. What's for dinner."
"Wait and see! You're as bad as the boys!"
They entered the house and Lucy hurried to the kitchen. She was rather surprised to be interrupted in her preparations by Harold Crackenthorpe.
"Miss Eyelesbarrow, can I speak to you about something?"
Art Painting
Would later do, Mr. Crackenthorpe? I'm rather behind hand."
"Certainly. Certainly. After dinner?"
"Yes, that will do."
Dinner was duly served and appreciated. Lucy finished washing up and came out into the hall to find Harold Crackenthorpe waiting for her.
"Yes, Mr. Crackenthorpe?"
"Shall we come in here?" He opened the door of the drawing-room and led the way. He shut the door behind her.
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
I'd have to hear more."
"Frankly, my dear girl, I could use you. You've got the sort of manner that's invaluable – creates confidence."
"Do you want me to help you sell gold bricks?"
"Nothing so risky. Just a little by-passing of the law - no more." His hand slipped up her arm. "You're damned attractive girl, Lucy. I'd like you as a partner."
"I'm flattered."
"Meaning nothing doing? Think about it. Think of the fun, the pleasure you'd get out of outwitting all the sobersides. The trouble is, one needs capital."
"I'm afraid I haven't got any."
Famous painting
"Oh, it wasn't a touch! I'll be laying my hands on some before long. My revered Papa can't live forever, mean old brute. When he pops off, I lay my hands on some real money. What about it, Lucy?"
"What are the terms?"
"Marriage if you fancy it. Women seem to, no matter how advanced and self-supporting they are. Besides, married women can't be made to give evidence against their husbands."
"Not so flattering!"
"Come off it, Lucy. Don't you realise I've fallen for you?"
Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
"One could see that. Funny what a taste old ladies have for any kind of society, however dull. And, really, nothing could be duller than Rutherford Hall. Two days here is about as much as I can stand. How do you manage to stick it out, Lucy? Don't mind if I call you Lucy, do you?"
"Not at all. I don't find it dull. Of course with me it's not a permanency."
"I've been watching you - you're a smart girl, Lucy. Too smart to waste yourself cooking and cleaning."
"Thank you, but I prefer cooking and cleaning to the office desk."
"So would I. But there are other ways of living. You could be a freelance."
Famous artist painting
"I am."
"Not this way. I mean, working for yourself, pitting your wits against –"
"Against what?"
"The powers that be! All the silly pettifogging rules and regulations that hamper us all nowadays. The interesting thing is there's always a way round them if you're smart enough to find it. And you're smart. Come now, does the idea appeal to you?"
"Possibly."
Lucy manoeuvred the car into the stableyard.
"Not going to commit yourself?"
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
It was clear that she suggested to them something that they had never thought of and which they did not find overpleasing.
Miss Marple rose to her feet, dropping as she did so, several little woolly scarves and her bag.
The three brothers were most attentive picking things up.
"So kind of you," fluted Miss Marple. "Oh, yes, and my little blue muffler. Yes – as I say - so kind to ask me here. I've been picturing, you know, just what your home was like – so that I can visualise dear Lucy working here."
"Perfect home conditions – with murder thrown in," said Cedric.
"Cedric!" Harold's voice was angry.
Miss Marple smiled up at Cedric.
Decorative painting
Lucy took Miss Marple home. On her way back a figure stepped out of darkness and stood in the glare of the headlights just as she was about to turn into the back lane. He held up his hand and Lucy recognised Alfred Crackenthorpe.
"That's better," he observed, as he got in. "Brrr, it's cold! I fancied I'd like a nice bracing walk. I didn't. Taken the old lady home all right?"
"Yes. She enjoyed herself very much."
Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
An accomplice?"suggested the Assistant Commissioner. "Hardly，"said Poirot."It is odd that-unless-"We all looked at himinquiringly as he paused. He shook his head，however，and the inspector proceeded.That search putsthe matter beyond doubt.I found a block of notepaper similar to that onwhich the letters were written，a large quantity of hosiery and-at the backof the cupboard where the hosiery was stored-a parcel much the same shapeand size but which turned out to contain-not hosiery-but eight new A B Crailway guides!"
Abstract Painting
"Proof positive，"said the Assistant Commissioner. "I've found something else，too，"said the inspector-his voice becomingsuddenly almost human with triumph."Only found it this morning，sir.Not hadtime to report yet.There was no sigh of the knife in his room-""It would bethe act of an imbecile to bring that back with him，"remarked Poirot. "After all，he's not a reasonable human being，"remarked the inspector. "Anway，it occurred to me that he might just possibly have brought itback to the house and then realized the danger of hiding it (as M.Poirotpoints out)in his room，and have looked about elsewhere.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
"I've checked up with Churston，Paignton and Torquay.Got a list ofpeople where he went and offered stockings.I must say he did the thingthoroughly.Stayed at the Pitt，small hotel near Torre Station.Returned tothe hotel at 10.30on the night of the murder.Could have taken a train fromChurston at 9.57，getting to Torre at 10.20.No one answering to hisdescription noticed on train or at station，but that Friday was DartmouthRegatta and the trains back from Kingswear were pretty full. "Bexhill much the same.Stayed at the Globe under his own name.Offeredstockings to about a dozen addresses，including Mrs Barnard and includingthe Ginger Cat.Left hotel early in the evening.
Rembrandt Painting
Arrived back in London about 11.30the following morning.As to Andover，same procedure.Stayed at the Feathers.Offered stockings to Mrs Fowler，nextdoor to Mrs Ascher，and to half a dozen other people in the street.The pairMrs Ascher had I got from the niece (name of Drower)-they're identical withCust's supply." "So far，good，"said the A.C. "Acting on information received，"said the inspector，"I went to theaddress given me by Hartigan，but found that Cust had left the house abouthalf an hour previously.He received a telephone message，I'm told.First timesuch a thing had happened to him，so his landlady told me."
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
But how did she know the inspector was coming? And her voice-she'd disguised her voice from her mother...... It looked-it looked-as though she knew...... But surely if she knew，she wouldn't...... She might，though.Women were very queer. Unexpectedly cruel and unexpectedly kind.He'd seen Lily once letting amouse out of a mouse-trap. A kind girl...... A kind，pretty girl...... He paused by the hall stand with its load of umbrellas and coats. Shoule he......? A slight noise from the kitchen decided him...... No，there wasn't time...... Mrs Marbury might come out...... He opened the front door，passed through and closed it behind him...... Where......?
The Singing Butler
Conference again. The Assistant Commissioner，Inspector Crome，Poirot and myself. The A.C.was saying: "A good tip that yours，M.Poirot，about checking a large sale ofstockings." Poirot spread out his hands. "It was indicated.This man could not be a regular agent.He sold outrightinstead of touting for orders." "Got everything clear so far，inspector?" "I think so，sir."Crome consulted a file. "Shall I run over the position to date?" "Yes，please."
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
Her conscience gave her a sudden twinge. Last night Tom and Lily and all the hunting back over dates!Trying tomake out that Mr Cust was that dreadful monster，A B C.Just because of hisinitials and because of a few coincidences. "I don't suppose they meant it seriously，"she thought comfortably."Andnow I hope they'll be ashamed of themselves." In some obscure way that she could not have explained，Mr Cust'sstatement that his sister had had a baby had effectually removed any doubtsMrs Marbury might have had of her lodger's bona fides. "I hope she didn't have too hard a time of it，poor dear."thought MrsMarbury，testing an iron against her cheek before beginning to iron outLily's silk slip.
Jack Vettriano Painting
Her mind ran comfortably on a well-worn obstetric track. Mr Cust came quietly down the stairs，a bag in his hand.His eyes resteda minute on the telephone. That brief conversation re-echoed in his brain. "Is that you，Mr Cust?I thought you might like to know there's aninspector from Scotland Yard may be coming to see you......" What had he said?He couldn't remember. "Thank you-thank you，my dear......very kind of you......" Something like that. Why had she telephoned to him?Could she possibly have guessed?Or did shejust want to make sure he would stay in for the inspector's visit?
Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
"Not often you have a telephone call，Mr Cust?" "No-er-no，Mrs Marbury.It isn't." "Not bad news，I trust?" "No-no."How persistent the woman was.His eyes caught the legend on thenewspaper he was carrying. Births-Marriages-Deaths...... "My sister's just had a little boy，"he blurted out. He-who had never had a sister! "Oh，dear!Now-well，that is nice，I am sure. ("And never once mentioned a sister all these years，"was her inwardthought."If that isn't just like a man!")I was surprised，I'll tell you，when the lady asked to speak to Mr Cust.Just at first I fancied it was myLily's voice-something like hers，it was-but haughtier if you know what Imean-sort of high up in the air.
Mary Cassatt painting
Well，Mr Cust，my congratulations，I'm sure.Is it the first one，or haveyou other little nephews and nieces?" "It's the only one，"said Mr Cust. "The only one I've ever had or likely to have，and-er-I think I must gooff at once. They-they want me to come. I-I think I can just catch a train if I hurry." "Will you be away long，Mr Cust?"called Mrs Marbury as he ran up thestairs. "Oh，no-two or three days-that's all." He disappeared into his bedroom.Mrs Marbury retired into the kitchen，thinking sentimentally of "the dear little mite".
Mary Cassatt painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
"It does seem awful，"she observed. "Well，now you're going to come and have a bite of lunch，my girl.Justyou think that if we're right I expect my name will be in the papers!" "Oh，Tom，will it?" "Rather.And yours，too.And your mother's.And I dare say you'll have yourpicture in it，too." "Oh，Tom."Lily squeezed his arm in an ecstasy. "And in the meantime what do you say to a bite at the Corner House?" Lily squeezed tighter. "Come on then!" "All right-half a minute.I musst just telephone from the station." "Who to?" "A girl I was going to meet."
Edward Hopper Painting
She slipped across the road，and rejoined him three minutes later，looking rather flushed. "Now then，Tom." She slipped her arm in his. "Tell me more about Scotland Yard.You didn't see the other one there?" "What other one?" "The Belgian gentleman.The one that A B C writes to always." "No.He wasn't there." "Well，tell me all about it.What happened when you got inside?Who didyou speak to and what did you say?" Mr Cust put the receiver back very gently on the hook. He turned to where Mrs MArbury was standing in the doorway of the room，clearly devoured with curiosity.Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
He nodded thoughtfully. "We're getting warm，"said Inspector Crome-rather inaccurately，for hehimself was always slightly chilly. "Any instructions，sir?" "Put on a couple of men to watch this Camden Town address，but I don'twant our bird frightened.I must have a word with the A.C.Then I think itwould be as well if Cust was brought along here and asked if he'd like tomake a statement.It sounds as though he's quite ready to get rattled." Outside Tom Hartigan had rejoined Lily Marbury who was waiting for himon the Embankment. "All right，Tom?" Tom nodded.
Van Gogh Sunflower
"I saw Inspector Crome himself.The one who's in charge of the case." "What's he like?" "A bit quiet and lah-di-dah-not my idea of a detective." "That's Lord Trenchard's new kind，"said Lily with respect."Some of themare ever so grand.Well，what did he say?" Tom gave her a brief resume of the interview. "So they think as it really was him?" "They think it might be.Anyway，they'll come along and ask him aquestion or two." "Poor Mr Cust." "It's no good saying poor Mr Cust，my girl.If he's A B C，he's committedfour terrible murders." Lily sighed and shook her head.
Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
Tom gave it to him. "Thank you.I shall probably be calling round in the course of the day.Ineed hardly tell you to be careful of your manner if you come across thisCust." He rose and shook hands. "You may be quite satisfied you did the right thing in coming to us.Goodmorning，Mr Hartigan." "Well，sir?"asked Jacobs，re-entering the room a few minutes later. "Think it's the goods?" "It's promising，"said Inspector Crome. "That is，if the facts are as the boy stated them.We've had no luck withthe stocking manufacturers yet.It was time we got hold of something.By theway，give me that file of the Churston case."
Van Gogh Painting
He spent some minutes looking for what he wanted. "Ah，here it is.It's amongst the statements made to the Torquay police. Young man of the name of Hill.Deposes he was leaving the TorquayPalladium after the film Not a Sparrow and noticed a man behaving queerly.Hewas talking to himself.Hill heard him say "That's an idea."Not a Sparrow-that's the film that was on at the Regal in Doncaster?" "Yes，sir." "There may be something in that.Nothing to it at the time-but it'spossible that the idea of the modus operandi for his next crime occurred toour man then.We've got Hill's name and address，I see.His description of theman is vague but it links up well enough with the descriptions of MaryStroud and this Tom Hartigan......"
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
and Lily suggested that asMr Cust was away Bert Smith might have his bed.But Mrs Marbury wouldn'tagree，because she said it wasn't acting right by her lodger，and she alwaysliked to act fair and square.But we fixed the date all right because of BertSmith's ship docking at Southampton that day." Inspector Crome had listened very attentively，jotting down anoccasional note. "That's all?"he asked. "That's all，sir.I hope you don't think I'm making a lot of nothing." Tom flushed slightly.
Henri Matisse Painting
"Not at all.You were quite right to come here. Of course，it's very slight evidence-these dates may be mere coincidenceand the likeness of the name，too.But it certainly warrants my having aninterview with your Mr Cust.Is he at home now? "Yes，sir." "When did he return?" "The evening of the Doncaster murder，sir." "What's he been doing since?" "He's stayed in mostly，sir.And he's been looking very queer，MrsMarbury says.He buys a lot of newspapers-goes out early and gets the morningones，and then after dark he goes out and gets the evening ones. Mrs Marbury says he talks a lot to himself，too.She thinks he's gettingqueerer." "What is this Mrs Marbury's address
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
We didn't think no more about it.At least，in a sort of way I did，sir，underneath like.I began wondering about this Cust fellow and thinking that，after all，harmless as he seemed，he might be a bit batty." Tom took a breath and then went on.Inspector Crome was listeningintently now. "And then after the Doncaster murder，sir，it was in all the papers thatinformation was wanted as to the whereabouts of a certain A B Case or Cash，and it gave a description that fitted well enough.
Marc Chagall Painting
First evening off I had，I went round to Lily's and asked her what herMr Cust's initials were.She couldn't remember at first，but her motherdid.Said they were A B right enough.Then we got down to it and tried tofigure out if Cust had been away at the time of the first murder at Andover. Well，as you know，sir，it isn't too easy to remember things threemonths back. We had a job of it，but we got it fixed down in the end，because MrsMarbury had a brother come from Canada to see her on June 21st.He arrivedunexpected like and she wanted to give him a bed
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
Cust-eh?" "That's right，sir.A sort of middle-aged bloke what's rather vague andsoft-and come down in the world a bit，I should say. Sort of creature who wouldn't hurt a fly you'd say-and I'd never ofdreamed of anything being wrong if it hadn't been for something rather odd." In a somewhat confused manner and repeating himself once or twice，Tomdescribed his encounter with Mr Cust at Euston Station and the incident ofthe dropped ticket. "You see，sir，look at it how you will，it's funny like.Lily-that's myyoung lady，sir-she was quite positive that it was Cheltenham he said，andher mother says the same-says she remembers distinct talking about it themorning he went off.Of course，I didn't pay much attention to it at the
The Birth of Venus
time.Lily-my young lady-said as how she hoped he wouldn't cop it from this AB C fellow going to Doncaster-and then she says it's rathre a coincidencebecause he was down Churston way at the time of the last crime.Laughing like，I asks her whether he was at Bexhill the time before，and she says she don'tknow where he was.but he was away at the seaside-that she does know.And thenI said to her it would be odd if he was the A B C himself and she said poorMr Cust wouldn't hurt a fly-and that was all at the time.
The Birth of Venus

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
"Very well，Jacobs，"said Crome. "Send him along." A few minutes later there was a tap on the inspector's door and SergeantJacobs appeared，ushering in a tall，moderately good-looking young man. "This is Mr Tom Hartigan，sir.He's got something to tell us which mayhave a possible bearing on the A B C case." The inspector rose pleasantly and shook hands. "Good morning，Mr Hartigan.Sit down，won't you?Smoke?Have a cigarette?" Tom Hartigan sat down awkwardly and looked with some awe at what hecalled in his own mind "One of the big-wigs."The appearance of the inspectorvaguely disappointed him.He looked quite an ordinary person!
Bouguereau William
"Now then，"said Crome."You've got something to tell us that you thinkmay have a bearing on the case.Fire ahead." Tom began nervously. "Of course it may be nothing at all.It's just an idea of mine.I may bewasting your time." Again Inspector Crome sighed imperceptibly.The amount of time he had towaste in reassuring people! "We're the best judge of that.Let's have the facts，Mr Hartigan." "Well，it's like this，sir.I've got a young lady，you see，and hermother lets rooms.Up Camden Town way.Their second-floor back has been letfor over a year to a man called Cust."
Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting Mr Ball，swelling with pride and importance，and Mary，somewhat tearful，accompanied them. The sergeant returned about ten minutes later. "I've brought the register，sir，"he said. "Here's the signature." We crowded round.The writing was small and cramped-not easy to read. "A B Case-or is it Cash?"said the Chief Constable. "A B C，"said Crome significantly. "What about luggage?"asked Anderson. "One good-sized suitcase，sir，full of small cardboard boxes." "Boxes?What was in'em?" "Stockings，sir.Silk stockings." Crome turned to Poirot. "Congratulations，"he said."Your hunch was right."
Gustav Klimt Painting
Inspector Crome was in his office at Scotland Yard. The telephone on his desk gave a discreet buzz and he picked it up. "Jacobs speaking，sir.There's a young fellow come in with a story that Ithink you ought to hear." Inspector Crome sighed.On an average twenty people a day turned up withso-called important information about the A B C case.Some of them wereharmless lunatics，some of them were well-meaning persons who genuinelybelieved that their information was of value.It was the duty of SergeantJacobs to act as a human sieve-retaining the grosser matter and passing onthe residue to his supeior.
Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Didn't hear about it at once，"said Ball. "Not till news came along as there'd been another murder done.And thenthe lass she screams out as it might have been blood in the basin，and Iasks her what she means，and she tells me.Well，it doesn't sound right to meand I went upstairs myself. Nobody in the room.I asks a few questions and one of the lads incourtyard says he saw a fellow sneaking out that way and by his descriptionit was the right one.So I says to the missus as Mary here had best go topolice. She doesn't like the idea，Mary doesn't，and I says I'll come along withher." Inspector Crome drew a sheet of paper towards him. "Describe this man，"he said."As quick as you can.There's no time to belost."
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Medium-sized he were，"said Mary. "And stooped and wore glasses." "His clothes?" "A dark suit and a Homburg hat.Rather shabby-looking." She could add little to this description. Inspector Crome did nit insist unduly.The telephone wires were soon busy，but neither the inspector nor the Chief Constable were over-optimistic. Crome elicited the fact that the man，when seen sneaking across the yard，had had no bag or suitcase. "There's a chance there，"he said. Two men were despatched to the Black Swan.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
"Get on，lass，"said Mr Ball."Tell your tale.Nowt to be afraid of." Mary gasped，groaned and plunged in a breathless voice into her narrative. "I knocked on door and there wasn't no answer，otherwise I wouldn't havegone in leastways not unless the gentleman had said"Come in，"and as hedidn't say nothing I went in and he was there washing his hands." She paused and breathed deeply. "Go on，my girl，"said Anderson. Mary looked sideways at her master and as though receiving inspirationfrom his slow nod，plunged on again. ""It's your hot water，sir，"I said，"and I did knock，"but "Oh，"hesays，"I've washed in cold，"he said，and so，naturally，I looks in basin，and oh!God help me，sir，it were all red!"
Modern Art Painting
"Red?"said Anderson sharply. Ball struck in. "The lass told me that he had his coat off and that he was holding thesleeve of it，and it was all wet-that's right，eh，lass?" "Yes，sir，that's right，sir." She plunged on: "And his face，sir，it looked queer，mortal queer it looked.Gave mequite a turn." "When was this?"asked Anderson sharply. "About a quarter after five，so near as I can reckon." "Over three hours ago，"snapped Anderson. "Why didn't you come at once?"Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
"Think so?Well，it's possible.Damn it all，hasn't anyone got eyes intheir head?" "Have patience，"said Poirot. "You seem very confident，M.Poirot.Got any reason for this optimism?" "Yes，Colonel Anderson.Up to now，the murderer has not made a mistake. He is bound to make one soon." "If that's all you've got to go on，"began the Chief Constable with asnort，but he was interrupted. "Mr Ball of the Black Swan is here with a young woman，sir.He reckonshe's got summat to say might help you." "Bring them along.Bring them along.We can do with anything helpful." Mr Ball of the Black Swan was a large，slow-thinking，heavily moving man. He exhaled a strong odour of beer.With him was a plump young woman withround eyes clearly in a state of high excitement.
Art Painting
Hope I'm not intruding or wasting valuable time，"said Mr Ball in aslow，thick voice."But this wench，Mary here，reckons she's got something totell as you ought to know." Mary giggled in a half-hearted way. "Well，my girl，what is it?"said Anderson."What's your name?" "Mary，sir，Mary Stroud." "Well，Mary，out with it." Mary turned her round eyes on her naster. "It's her business to take up hot water to the gents'bedrooms，"said MrBall，coming to the rescue."About half a dozen gentlemen we'd got staying. Some for the races and some just commercials." "Yes，yes，"said Anderson impatiently.
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
"God bless my soul，"said Mr Downes，sobered into whispering. He got up.He looked suddenly old and shaken. "If you don't want me any more，gentlemen，I think I'll go home.I-Idon't feel very well." "That's quite all right，Mr Downes.I'll send a constable with you-justto see you're all right." "Oh，no-no，thank you.That's not necessary." "Might as well，"said Colonel Anderson gruffly. His eyes slid sideways，asking an imperceptible question of theinspector.The latter gave an equally imperceptible nod. Mr Downes went out shakily.
Famous painting
"Just as well he didn't tumble to it，"said Colonel Anderson."There'llbe a couple of them-eh?" "Yes，sir.Your Inspector Rice has made arrangements.The house will bewatched." "You think，"said Poirot，"that when A B C finds out his mistake hemight try again?" Anderson nodded. "It's a possibility，"he said."Seems a methodical sort of chap，A B C. It will upset him if things don't go according to programme." Poirot nodded thoughtfully. "Wish we could get a description of the fellow，"said Colonel Andersonirritably."We're as much in the dark as ever." "It may come，"said Poirot.Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
"I'm telling you，man，"said Colonel Anderson，"just where your luckcame in.Somehow or other，when the murderer followed you in，he got confused. He picked on the wrong back.I'll eat my hat，Mr Downes，if that knifewasn't meant for you!" However well Mr Downes's heart had stood former tests，it was unable tostand up to this one.He sank on a chair，gasped，and turned purple in theface. "Water，"he gasped."Water......" A glass was brought him.He sipped it whilst his complexion graduallyreturned to the normal. "Me?"he said."Why me?"
Famous artist painting
Water，"he gasped."Water......" A glass was brought him.He sipped it whilst his complexion graduallyreturned to the normal. "Me?"he said."Why me?" "It looks like it，"said Crome."In fact，it's the only explanation." "You mean that this man-this-this fiend incarnate-this bloodthirstymadman has been following me about waiting for an opportunity?" "I should say that was the way of it." "But in heaven's name，why me?"demanded the outraged schoolmaster. Inspector Crome struggled with the temptation to reply:"Why not?"andsaid instead:"I'm afraid it's no good expecting a lunatic to have reasonsfor what he does."
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
At the close of the performance I rose from my seat.The seat on my leftwas empty but in the one beyond a man was sitting，apparently asleep.I wasunable to pass him to get out as his legs were stuck out in front of him.Iasked him to allow me to pass.As he did not move I repeated my requestin-a-er-slightly louder tone.He still made no response.I then took him bythe shoulder to waken him.His body slumped down further and I becameaware-that he was either unconscious or seriously ill.I called out:"Thisgentleman is taken ill.Fetch the commissionaire."The commissionaire came.AsI took my hand from the man's shoulder I found it was wet and red......I canassure you，gentlemen，the shock was terrific!Anything might havehappened!For years I have suffered from cardiac weakness-"Colonel Andersonwas looking at Mr Downes with a very curious expression.
Decorative painting
"You can consider that you're a lucky man，Mr Downes." "I do，sir.Not even a palpitation!" "You don't quite take my meaning，Mr Downes. You were sitting two seats away，you say?" "Actually I was sitting at first in the next seat to the murderedman-then I moved along so as to be behind an empty seat." "You're about the same height and build as the dead man，aren't you，andyou were wearing a wollen scarf round your neck just as he was?" "I fail to see-"began Mr Downes stiffly.
Decorative painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
"It makes me so stupid.I cannot even remember what it was I wanted tosay to you." "Was it something about your husband's death?" "Car's death?Yes，perhaps......Mad，poor creature-the murderer，I mean. It's all the noise and the speed nowadays-people can't stand it.I'vealways been sorry for mad people-their heads must feel so queer.And then，being shut up-it must be so terrible.But what else can one do?If they killpeople......"She shook her head-gently pained."You haven't caught himyet?"she asked. "No，not yet." "He must have been hanging round here that day." "There were so many strangers about，Lady Clarke.It is the holidayseason."
Rembrandt Painting
"Yes-I forgot......But they keep down by the beaches，they don't come upnear the house." "No stranger came to the house that day." "Who says so?"demanded Lady Clarke，with a sudden vigour. Poirot looked slightly taken aback. "The servants，"he said."Miss Grey." Lady Clarke said very distinctly: "That girl is a liar!" I started on my chair.Poirot threw me a glance. Lady Clarke was going on，speaking now rather feverishly.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
We sat down as her vague gesture directed.There was a silence.LadyClarke seemed to have lapsed into a dream. Presently with a slight effort she roused herself. "It was about Car，wasn't it?About Car's death.Oh，yes." She signed，but still in a faraway manner，shaking her head. "We never thought it would be that way round......I was so sure I shouldbe the first to go......"She mused a minute or two. "Car was very strong-wonderful for his age.He was never ill.He wasnearly sixty-but he seemed more like fifty......Yes，very strong......" She relapsed again into her dream.Poirot，who was well acquainted withthe effects of certain drugs and of how they give their taker the impressionof endless time，said nothing.
The Singing Butler
Lady Clarke said suddenly: "Yes-it was good of you to come.I told Franklin.He said he wouldn'tforget to tell you.I hope Franklin isn't going to be foolish......he's soeasily taken in，in spite of having knocked about the world so much.Men arelike that......They remain boys......Franklin，in particular." "He has an impulsive nature，"said Poirot. "Yes-yes......And very chivalrous.Men are so foolish that way.EvenCar-"Her voice tailed off. She shook her head with a febrile impatience. "Everything's so dim......One's body is a nuisance，M.Poirot，especiallywhen it gets the upper hand.One is conscious of nothing else-whether thepain will hold off or not-nothing else seems to matter." "I know，Lady Clarke.It is one of the stragedies of this life."
The Singing Butler

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
"I didn't like her.I never liked her.Car thought all the world of her. Used to go on about her being an orphan and alone in the world.What'swrong with being an orphan?Sometimes it's a blessing in disguise.You mighthave a good-for-nothing father and a mother who drank-then you would havesomething to comoplain about.Said she was so brave and such a good worker.Idare say she did her work well I don't know where all this bravery came in!" "Now don't excite yourself，dear，"said Nurse Capstick，intervening."Wemustn't have you getting tired." "I soon sent her packing!Franklin had the impertinence to suggest thatshe might be a comfort to me.Comfort to me indeed!
Abstract Painting
The sooner I saw the last of her the better-that's what I said! Franklin's a fool!I didn't want him getting mixed up with her.He's aboy!No sense! "I'll give her three months'salary，if you like，"I said."But out shegoes.I don't want her in the house a day longer."There's one thing aboutbeing ill-men can't argue with you.He did what I said and she went. Went like a martyr，I expect-with more sweetness and bravery!" "Now，dear，don't get so excited.It's bad for you." Lady Clarke waved Nurse Capstick away. "You were as much of a fool about her as anyone else."
Abstract Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
M.Poirot?"she said briskly."I am Nurse Capstick.I got Mr Clarke'sletter saying you were coming." Poirot inquired after Lady Clarke's health. "Not at all bad really，all things considered." "All things considered，"I presumed，meant considering she was undersentence of death. "One can't hope for much improvement，of course，but some new treatmenthas made things a little easier for her.Dr Logan is quite pleased with hercondition." "But it is true，is it not，that she can never recover?" "Oh，we never actually say that，"said Nurse Capstick，a little shockedby this plain speaking.
Mary Cassatt painting
"I suppose her husband's death was a terrible shock to her?" "Well，M.Poirot，if you understand what I mean，it wasn't as much of ashock as it would have been to anyone in full possession of her health andfaculties.Things are dimmed for Lady Clarke in her condition." "Pardon my asking，but was she deeply attached to her husband and he toher?" "Oh，yes，they were a very happy couple.He was very worried and upsetabout her，poor man.It's always worse for a doctor，you know.They can't buoythemselves up with false hopes.I'm afraid it preyed on his mind very much tobegin with." "To begin with?Not so much afterwards?" "One gets used to everything，doesn't one?And then Sir Carmichael hadhis collection.A hobby is a great consolation to a man.He used to run up tosales occasionally，and then he and Miss Grey were busy recataloguing andrearranging the museum on a new system."
Mary Cassatt painting

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
Oh，yes-Miss Grey.She has left，has she not?" "Yes-I'm very sorry about it-but ladies do take these fancies sometimeswhen they're not well.And there's no arguing with them.It's better to givein.Miss Grey was very sensible about it." "Had Lady Clarke always disliked her?" "No-that is to say，not disliked.As a matter of fact，I think she ratherliked her to begin with.But there，I mustn't keep you gossiping.My patientwill be wondering what has become of us." She led us upstairs to a room on the first floor. What had at one time been a bedroom had been turned into acheerful-looking sitting-room.
Jack Vettriano Painting
Lady Clarke was sitting in a big armchair near the window.She waspainfully thin，and her face had the grey，haggard look of one who suffersmuch pain.She had a slightly faraway，dreamy look，and I noticed that thepupils of her eyes were mere pin-points. "This is M.Poirot whom you wanted to see，"said Nurse Capstick in herhigh，cheerful voice. "Oh，yes，M.Poirot，"said Lady Clarke vaguely. She extended her hand. "My friend Captain Hastings，Lady Clarke." "How do you do?So good of you both to come."
Jack Vettriano Painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
"And wears very lovely clothes.That crepe marocain and the silver foxcollar-dernier cri." "You're a man milliner，Poirot.I never notice what people have on." "You should join a nudist colony." As I was about to make an indignant rejoinder，he said，with a suddenchange of subject: "Do you know，Hastings，I cannot rid my mind of the impression thatalready，in our conversations this afternoon，something was said that wassignificant.It is odd-I cannot pin down exactly what it was......Just animpression that passed through my mind......That reminds me of something Ihave already heard or seen or noted......" "Something at Churston?" "No-not at Chruston......Before that......No matter，presently it willcome to me......" He looked at me (perhaps I had not been attending very closely)，laughedand began once more to hum.
Edward Hopper Painting
There was an air of deep and settled melancholy over Combeside when wesaw it again for the second time.This may，perhaps，have been partly due tothe weather-it was a moist September day with a hint of autumn in the air，and partly，no doubt，it was the semi-shut-up state of the house.Thedownstairs rooms were closed and shuttered，and the small room into which wewere shown smelt damp and airless. A capable-looking hospital nurse came to us there pulling down herstarched cuffs.
Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
She took an unreasoning dislike to me and insisted that I should leavethe house." I could not but admire the girl's courage.She did not attempt to glossover facts，as so many might have been tempted to do，but went straight tothe point with an admirable candour.My heart went out to her in admirationand sympathy. "I call it splendid of you to come and tell us this，"I said. "It's always better to have the truth，"she said with a little smile."Idon't want to shelter behind Mr Clarke's chivalry. He is a very chivalrous man." There was a warm glow in her words.She evidently admired Franklin Clarkeenormously.
Van Gogh Sunflower
"You have been very honest，mademoiselle，"said Poirot. "It is rather a blow to me，"said Thora ruefully."I had no idea LadyClarke disliked me so much.In fact，I always thought she was rather fond ofme."She made a wry face."One lives and learns." She rose. "That is all I came to say.Goodbye." I accompanied her downstairs. "I call that very sporting of her，"I said as I returned to the room. "She has courage，that girl." "And calculation." "What do you mean-calculation?" "I mean that she has the power of looking ahead." I looked at him doubtfully. "She really is a lovely girl，"I said.
Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
"Some of the time I love a brunette，Some of the tim I love a blonde(who comes from Eden by way of Sweden). "What could be more revealing?Mais je crois que la blonde l'emporte surla brunette!" "Really，Poirot，"I cried，blushing slightly. "C'est tout naturel.Did you observe how Franklin Clarke was suddenly atone and in sympathy with Mademoiselle Megan?How he learned forward andlooked at her?And did you also notice how very much annoyed MademoiselleThora Grey was about it?And Mr Donald Fraser，he-""Poirot，"I said."Yourmind is incurably sentimental." "That is the last thing my mind is.You are the sentimental one，Hastings." I was about to argue the point hotly，but at that moment the door opened. To my astonishment it was Thora Grey who entered.
Van Gogh Painting
"Forgive me for coming back，"she said composedly."But there wassomething that I think I would like to tell you，M.Poirot." "Certainly，mademoiselle.Sit down，will you not?" She took a seat and hesitated for just a minute as though choosing herwords. "It is just this，M.Poirot.Mr Clarke very generously gave you tounderstand just now that I had left Combeside by my own wish.He is a verykind and loyal person.But as a matter of fact，it is not quite like that. I was quite prepared to stay on-there is any amount of work to be donein connection with the collections.It was Lady Clarke who wished me to leave! I can make allowances.She is a very ill woman，and her brain is somewhatmuddled with the drugs they give her.It makes her suspicious and fanciful.
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
"Eh bien-to get things going!To imbue everyove with the impression thatthere was work to be done!To start-shall we say-the conversations!" "Don't you think any of these lines will lead to anything?" "Oh，it is always possible." He chuckled. "In the midst of tragedy we start the comedy. It is so，is it not?" "What do you mean?" "The human drama，Hastings!Reflect a little minute.Here are three setsof human beings brought together by a common tragedy.Immediately a seconddrama commences-tout a fait a part.Do you remember my first case inEngland?Oh，so many years ago now.I brought together two people who lovedone another-by the simple method of having one of them arrested for murder! Nothing less would have done it!In the midst of death we are in life
Henri Matisse Painting
Hastings......Murder，I have often noticed，is a great matchmaker." "Really，Poirot，"I cried scandalized. "I'm sure none of those people was thingking of anything but-""Oh!mydear friend.And what about yourself?" "I?" "Mais oui，as they departed，did you not come back from the door humminga tune?" "One may do that without being callous." "Certainly，but that tune told me your thoughts." "Indeed?" "Yes.To hum a tune is extremely dangerous.It reveals the subconsciousmind.The tune you hummed dates，I think，from the days of the war.Comme ca，"Poirot sang in an abominable falsetto voice
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
"It can do no harm to try.I think myself that A B C will be too cunningto reply."Poirot smiled a little."I see，Mr Clarke，that you are-if I maysay so without being offensive-still a boy at heart." Franklin Clarke looked a little abashed. "Well，"he said，consulting his notebook. "We're making a start. A-Miss Barnard and Milly Higley B-Mr Fraser and Miss Higley C-Childrenin Andover D-Advertisement I don't feel any of it is much good，but it willbe something to do whilst waiting." He got up and a few minutes later the meeting had dispersed.
Marc Chagall Painting
Poirot returned to his seat and sat humming a little tune to himself. "Unfortunate that she is so intelligent，"he murmured. "Who?" "Megan Barnard.Mademoiselle Megan. "Words，"she snaps out.At once she perceives that what I am saying meansnothing at all.Everybody else was taken in." "I thought it sounded very plausible." "Plausible，yes.It was just that she perceived. "Didn't you mean what you said，then?" "What I said could have been comprised into one short sentence.Instead Irepeated myself ad lib without anyone but Mademoiselle Megan being aware ofthe fact." "But why?"
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
time，but if you would risk that-at my expense，of course." "Certainly，Mr Clarke.Shall we say the day after tomorrow?" "Good.I'll let nurse know and she'll arrange the dope accordingly." "For you，my child，"said Poirot，turning to Mary，"I think you mightperhaps do good work in Andover.Try the children." "The children?" "Yes.Children will not chat readily to outsiders.But you are known inthe street where your aunt lived.There were a good many children playingabout.They may have notived who went in and out of your aunt's shop." "What about Miss Grey and myself?"asked Clarke."That is，if I'm not togo to Bexhill." "M.Poirot，"said Thora Grey，"what was the postmark on the thirdletter?"
The Birth of Venus
"Putney，mademoiselle." She said thoughtfully:"SW15，Putney，that is right，is it not?" "For a wonder，the newspapers printed it correctly." "That seems to point to A B C being a Londoner." "On the face of it，yes." "One ought to be able to draw him，"said Clarke."M.Poirot，how would itbe if I inserted an advertisement-something after these lines:A B C. Urgent，H.P.close on your track.A hundred for my silence.X.Y.Z.Nothingquite so crude as that-but you see the idea.It might draw him." "It is a possibility-yes." "Might induce him to try and have a shot at me." "I think it's very dangerous and silly，"said Thora Grey sharply. "What about it，M.Poirot?"The Birth of Venus

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
"Miss Grey very kindly stayed on to help me clear up things，"saidFranklin."But naturally she prefers a post in London." Poirot directed a sharp glance from one to the other. "How is Lady Clarke?"he demanded. I was admiring the faint colour in Thora Grey's cheeks and almost missedClarke's reply. "Pretty bad.By the way，M.Poirot，I wonder if you could see your way torunning down to Devon and paying her a visit?She expressed a desire to seeyou before I left.Of course，she often can't see people for a couple of daysat a time，but if you would risk that-at my expense，of course." "Certainly，Mr Clarke.Shall we say the day after tomorrow?" "Good.I'll let nurse know and she'll arrange the dope accordingly."
Gustav Klimt Painting
"For you，my child，"said Poirot，turning to Mary，"I think you mightperhaps do good work in Andover.Try the children." "The children?" "Yes.Children will not chat readily to outsiders.But you are known inthe street where your aunt lived.There were a good many children playingabout.They may have notived who went in and out of your aunt's shop." "What about Miss Grey and myself?"asked Clarke."That is，if I'm not togo to Bexhill." "M.Poirot，"said Thora Grey，"what was the postmark on the thirdletter?" "Putney，mademoiselle." She said thoughtfully:"SW15，Putney，that is right，is it not?" "For a wonder，the newspapers printed it correctly." "That seems to point to A B C being a Londoner."
Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"I suggest two methods of approach.You，Miss Barnard，might try what Icall the offensive approach." "I suppose you think that suits my style?" said Megan dryly. "Pick a quarrel with the girl-say you knew she never liked yoursister-and that your sister had told you all about her.If I do not err，thatwill provoke a flood of recrimination.She will tell you just what shethought of your sister!Some useful fact may emerge." "And the second method?" "May I suggest，Mr Fraser，that you should show signs of interest in thegirl?" "Is that necessary?"
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"No，it is not necessary.It is just a possible line of exploration." "Shall I try my hand?"asked Franklin. "I've-er-a pretty wide experience，M.Poirot.Let me see what I can dowith the young lady." "You've got your own part of the world to attend to，"said Thora Greyrather sharply. Franklin's face fell just a little. "Yes，"he said."I have." "Tout de meme，I do not think there is much you can do down there forthe present，"said Poirot."Mademoiselle Grey now，she is far morefitted-"Thora Grey interrupted him. "But you see，M.Poirot，I have left Devon for good." "Ah?I did not understand."
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Art Painting

Art Painting
"Oh，yes，sir." "When was the last?" Mary thought a minute. "Two days before the murder，sir." "What did it say?" "She said the old devil had been round and that she'd sent him off witha flea in the ear-excuse the expression，sir-said she expected me over onthe Wednesday-that's my day out，sir-and she said we'd go to the pictures.Itwas going to be my birthday，sir." Something-the thought of the little festivity perhaps-suddenly broughtthe tears to Mary's eyes.She gulped down a sob. Then apologized for it.
Art Painting
"You must forgive me，sir.I don't want to be silly.Crying's no good.Itwas just the thought of her-and me-looking forward to our treat.It upset mesomehow，sir." "I know just what you feel like，"said Franklin Clarke."It's always thelittle things that get one-and especially anything like a treat or apresent-something jolly and natural.I remember seeing a woman run overonce.She'd just bought some new shoes.I saw her lying there-and the burstparcel with the ridiculous little high-heeled slippers peeping out-it gaveme a turn-they looked so pathetic." Megan said with a sudden eager warmth
Art Painting

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
"That's true-that's awfully true.The same thing happened afterBetty-died.Mum had bought some stockings for her as a present-bought themthe very day it happened.Poor mum，she was all broken up.I found her cryingover them.She kept saying:"I bought them for Betty-I bought them forBetty-and she never enven saw them.""Her own voice quivered a little.Sheleaned forward，looking straight at Franklin Clarke.There was between them asudden sympathy-a fraternity in trouble. "I know，"he said."I know exactly. Those are just the sort of things that are hell to remember." Donald Fraser stirred uneasily. Thora Grey diverted the conversation.
Modern Art Painting
Aren't we going to make any plans-for the future?"she asked. "Of course."Franklin Clarke resumed his ordinary manner."I think thatwhen the moment comes-that is，when the fourth letter arrives-we ought tojoin forces.Until then，perhaps we might each try our luck on our own.Idon't know whether there are any points M.Poirot thinks might repayinvestigation?" "I could make some suggestions，"said Poirot. "Good.I'll take them down."He produced a notebook."Go ahead，M.Poirot. A-?" "I consider it just possible that the waitress，Milly Higley，might knowsomething useful." "A-Milly Higley，"wrote down Franklin Clarke.
Modern Art Painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
Can you remember anything about them?" "Not a damned thing now." "Sure?" "Well-let's see-I remember a remarkably fat woman-she wore a stripedsilk dress and I wondered why-had a couple of kids with her-two young menwith a fox terrier on the beach throwing stones for it-Oh，yes，a girl withyellow hair squeaking as she bathed-funny how things come back-like aphotograph developing." "You are a good subject.Now later in the day-the garden-going to thepost-""The gardener watering......Going to the post? Nearly ran down a bicyclist-silly woman wobbling and shouting to afriend.That's all，I'm afraid." Poirot turned to Thora Grey.
Famous artist painting
"Miss Grey?" Thora Grey replied in her clear，positive voice: "I did correspondence with Sir Carmichael in the morning-saw thehousekeeper.I wrote letters and did needlework in the afternoon，I fancy. It is difficult to remember.It was quite an ordinary day.I went to bedearly." Rather to my surprise，Poirot asked no further.He said: "Miss Barnard-can you bring back your remembrances of the last time yousaw your sister?" "It would be about a fortnight before her death.I was down for Satrudayand Sunday.It was fine weather.We went to Hastings to the swimming pool." "What did you talk about most of the time?"
Famous artist painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
"I gave her a piece of my mind，"said Megan. "And what else?She conversed of what?" The girl frowned in an effort of memory. "She talked about being hard up-of a hat and a couple of summer frocksshe'd just bought.And a little of Don......She also said she disliked MillyHigley-that's the girl at the cafe-and we laughed about the Merrion womanwho keeps the cafe......I don't remember anything else......" "She didn't mention any man-forgive me，Mr Fraser-she might be meeting?" "She wouldn't to me，"said Megan dryly. Poirot turned to the red-haired young man with the square jaw. "Mr Fraser-I want you to cast your mind back.
Famous painting
You went，you said，to the cafe on the fatal evening.Your firstintention was to wait there and watch for Betty Barnard to come out.Can youremember anyone at all whom you noticed whilst you were waiting there?" "There were a large number of people walking along the front.I can'tremember any of them." "Excuse me，but are you trying?However preoccupied the mind may be，theeye notices mechanically-unintelligently but accurately......" The young man repeated doggedly: "I don't remember anybody." Poirot sighed and turned to Mary Drower. "I suppose you got letters from your aunt?"
Famous painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
"Words，mademoiselle，are only the outer clothing of ideas." "Well，I think it's sense，"said Mary Drower."I do really，miss.It'soften when you're talking over things that you seem to see your way clear. Your mind gets made up for you sometimes without your knowing how it'shappened.Talking leads to a lot of things one way and another." "If "least said is soonest mended"，it's the converse we want here，"said Franklin Clarke. "What do you say，Mr Fraser?" "I rather doubt the practical applicability of what you say，M.Poirot." "What do you think，Thora?"asked Clarke.
Decorative painting
"I think the principle of talking things over is always sound." "Suppose，"suggested Poirot，"that you all go over your own remembrancesof the time preceding the murder.Perhaps you'll start，Mr Clarke." "Let me see，on the morning of the day Car was killed I went off sailing. Caught eight mackerel.Lovely out there on the bay. Lunch at home.Irish stew，I remember.Slept in the hammock.Tea.Wrote someletters，missed the post，and drove into Paignton to post them.Then dinnerand -I'm not ashamed to say it-reread a book of E.Nesbit's that I used tolove as a kid. Then the telephone rang-""No further.Now reflect，Mr Clarke，did youmeet anyone on your way down to the sea in the morning?" "Lots of people." "Can you remember anything about them?"
Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting

Some of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the air until they were over a country thickly covered with sharp rocks. Here they dropped the poor Woodman, who fell a great distance to the rocks, where he lay so battered and dented that he could neither move nor groan.
Abstract Painting
Others of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers pulled all of the straw out of his clothes and head. They made his hat and boots and clothes into a small bundle and threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.
The remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and wound many coils about his body and head and legs, until he was unable to bite or scratch or struggle in any way. Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the Witch's castle, where he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence around it, so that he could not escape.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.
Rembrandt Painting
One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the Witch and said, "You have called us for the third and last time. What do you command?"
"Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion," said the Wicked Witch. "Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work."
Rembrandt Painting

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
one eye that could see far off. She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still traveling through her country. This made her angrier than before, and she blew her silver whistle twice.
Straightway a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her, enough to darken the sky.
And the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, "Fly at once to the strangers; peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces."
Van Gogh Painting
The wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her companions. When the little girl saw them coming she was afraid.
But the Scarecrow said, "This is my battle, so lie down beside me and you will not be harmed."
So they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and he stood up and stretched out his arms. And when the crows saw him they were frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and did not dare to come any nearer. But the King Crow said
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

"This is my fight," said the Woodman, "so get behind me and I will meet them as they come."
He seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf's head from its body, so that it immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman's weapon. There were forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.
Henri Matisse Painting
Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, "It was a good fight, friend."
They waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little girl was quite frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the Tin Woodman told her all. She thanked him for saving them and sat down to breakfast, after which they started again upon their journey.
Henri Matisse Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus Now the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as powerful as a telescope, and could see everywhere. So, as she sat in the door of her castle, she happened to look around and saw Dorothy lying asleep, with her friends all about her. They were a long distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.
The Birth of Venus
At once there came running to her from all directions a pack of great wolves. They had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.
"Go to those people," said the Witch, "and tear them to pieces."
"Are you not going to make them your slaves?" asked the leader of the wolves.
"No," she answered, "one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and another a Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you may tear them into small pieces."
The Birth of Venus

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
They thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West, walking over fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies and buttercups. Dorothy still wore the pretty silk dress she had put on in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she found it was no longer green, but pure white. The ribbon around Toto's neck had also lost its green color and was as white as Dorothy's dress.
The Emerald City was soon left far behind. As they advanced the ground became rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor houses in this country of the West, and the ground was untilled
Marc Chagall Painting

In the afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no trees to offer them shade; so that before night Dorothy and Toto and the Lion were tired, and lay down upon the grass and fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.
Marc Chagall Painting

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
The soldier with the green whiskers led them through the streets of the Emerald City until they reached the room where the Guardian of the Gates lived. This officer unlocked their spectacles to put them back in his great box, and then he politely opened the gate for our friends.
"Which road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Dorothy.
"There is no road," answered the Guardian of the Gates. "No one ever wishes to go that way."
Bouguereau William
"That will be easy," replied the man, "for when she knows you are in the country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her slaves."
"Perhaps not," said the Scarecrow, "for we mean to destroy her."
"Oh, that is different," said the Guardian of the Gates. "No one has ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her." Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting "I will go with you; but I'm too much of a coward to kill the Witch," said the Lion.
"I will go too," declared the Scarecrow; "but I shall not be of much help to you, I am such a fool."
"I haven't the heart to harm even a Witch," remarked the Tin Woodman; "but if you go I certainly shall go with you."
Gustav Klimt Painting
Therefore it was decided to start upon their journey the next morning, and the Woodman sharpened his axe on a green grindstone and had all his joints properly oiled. The Scarecrow stuffed himself with fresh straw and Dorothy put new paint on his eyes that he might see better. The green girl, who was very kind to them, filled Dorothy's basket with good things to eat, and fastened a little bell around Toto's neck with a green ribbon.
Gustav Klimt Painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
Go to the strangers and sting them to death!" commanded the Witch, and the bees turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and her friends were walking. But the Woodman had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had decided what to do.
"Take out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and the Lion," he said to the Woodman, "and the bees cannot sting them." This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.
Edward Hopper Painting
The bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew at him and broke off all their stings against the tin, without hurting the Woodman at all. And as bees cannot live when their stings are broken that was the end of the black bees, and they lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps of fine coal.
Edward Hopper Painting

van gogh sunflower

van gogh sunflower "It is only a stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out."
The King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and twisted its neck until it died. And then another crow flew at him, and the Scarecrow twisted its neck also. There were forty crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at last all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his companions to rise, and again they went upon their journey.
van gogh sunflower
When the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a heap, she got into a terrible rage, and blew three times upon her silver whistle.
Forthwith there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of black bees came flying toward her.
van gogh sunflower

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"What shall we do now?" asked Dorothy sadly.
"There is only one thing we can do," returned the Lion, "and that is to go to the land of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked Witch, and destroy her."
"But suppose we cannot?" said the girl.
"Then I shall never have courage," declared the Lion.
"And I shall never have brains," added the Scarecrow.
"And I shall never have a heart," spoke the Tin of Woodman.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"And I shall never see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry," said Dorothy, beginning to cry.
"Be careful!" cried the green girl. "The tears will fall on your green silk gown and spot it."
So Dorothy dried her eyes and said, "I suppose we must try it; but I am sure I do not want to kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again." Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting Then a low, quiet voice came from the Ball of Fire, and these were the words it spoke:
"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
And the Lion answered, "I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything. I came to you to beg that you give me courage, so that in reality I may become the King of Beasts, as men call me."
Modern Art Painting
The Ball of Fire burned fiercely for a time, and the voice said, "Bring me proof that the Wicked Witch is dead, and that moment I will give you courage. But as long as the Witch lives, you must remain a coward."
The Lion was angry at this speech, but could say nothing in reply, and while he stood silently gazing at the Ball of Fire it became so furiously hot that he turned tail and rushed from the room. He was glad to find his friends waiting for him, and told them of his terrible interview with the Wizard.
Modern Art Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Twice already the Wicked Witch had used the charm of the Cap. Once was when she had made the Winkies her slaves, and set herself to rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had helped her do this. The second time was when she had fought against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted.
The Singing Butler
But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.
So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head. Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly:
"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!"
Next she stood upon her right foot and said
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to think what she should do next. She could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed; but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her mind how to act.
Jack Vettriano Painting
There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given. But no person could command these strange creatures more than three times.
Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever. So they started upon their journey once more.
The Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in little heaps like fine coal that she stamped her foot and tore her hair and gnashed her teeth. And then she called a dozen of her slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling them to go to the strangers and destroy them.
Mary Cassatt painting
The Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as they were told. So they marched away until they came near to Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast as they could.
Mary Cassatt painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
"If he is a Beast when I go to see him, I shall roar my loudest, and so frighten him that he will grant all I ask. And if he is the lovely Lady, I shall pretend to spring upon her, and so compel her to do my bidding. And if he is the great Head, he will be at my mercy; for I will roll this head all about the room until he promises to give us what we desire. So be of good cheer, my friends, for all will yet be well."
Art Painting
The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers led the Lion to the great Throne Room and bade him enter the presence of Oz.
The Lion at once passed through the door, and glancing around saw, to his surprise, that before the throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce and glowing he could scarcely bear to gaze upon it. His first thought was that Oz had by accident caught on fire and was burning up; but when he tried to go nearer, the heat was so intense that it singed his whiskers, and he crept back tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
"I am a Woodman, and made of tin. Therefore I have no heart, and cannot love. I pray you to give me a heart that I may be as other men are."
"Why should I do this?" demanded the Beast.
"Because I ask it, and you alone can grant my request," answered the Woodman.
Oz gave a low growl at this, but said, gruffly: "If you indeed desire a heart, you must earn it."
"How?" asked the Woodman.
Famous painting
"Help Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West," replied the Beast. "When the Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then give you the biggest and kindest and most loving heart in all the Land of Oz."
So the Tin Woodman was forced to return sorrowfully to his friends and tell them of the terrible Beast he had seen. They all wondered greatly at the many forms the Great Wizard could take upon himself, and the Lion said
Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting But when the Woodman entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the Head nor the Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a most terrible Beast. It was nearly as big as an elephant, and the green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its weight. The Beast had a head like that of a rhinoceros, only there were five eyes in its face. There were five long arms growing out of its body, and it also had five long, slim legs. Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it
Famous artist painting
and a more dreadful-looking monster could not be imagined. It was fortunate the Tin Woodman had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from terror. But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all afraid, although he was much disappointed.
"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one great roar. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
The Scarecrow went sorrowfully back to his friends and told them what Oz had said; and Dorothy was surprised to find that the Great Wizard was not a Head, as she had seen him, but a lovely Lady.
"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "she needs a heart as much as the Tin Woodman."
On the next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to the Tin Woodman and said,
Decorative painting

"Oz has sent for you. Follow me."
So the Tin Woodman followed him and came to the great Throne Room. He did not know whether he would find Oz a lovely Lady or a Head, but he hoped it would be the lovely Lady. "For," he said to himself, "if it is the head, I am sure I shall not be given a heart, since a head has no heart of its own and therefore cannot feel for me. But if it is the lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a heart, for all ladies are themselves said to be kindly hearted. Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
Then she set him and the little girls to paring some winter apples; but he was so awkward at this service that she retired him from it and gave him a butcher-knife to grind. Afterward she kept him carding wool until he began to think he had laid the good King Alfred about far enough in the shade for the present, in the matter of showy menial heroisms that would read picturesquely in story-books and histories, and so he was half minded to resign. And when, just after the noonday dinner, the goodwife gave him a basket of kittens to drown, he did resign.
Abstract Painting
least he was just going to resign-for he felt that he must draw the line somewhere, and it seemed to him that to draw it at kitten-drowning was about the right thing-when there was an interruption. The interruption was John Canty-with a peddler's pack on his back-and Hugo!
The king discovered these rascals approaching the front gate before they had had a chance to see him; so he said nothing about drawing the line, but took up his basket of kittens and stepped quietly out the back way, without a word. He left the creatures in an outhouse, and hurried on into a narrow lane at the rear.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
It does us all good to unbend sometimes. This good woman was made happy all the day long by the applauses she got out of herself for her magnanimous condescension to a tramp; and the king was just as self-complacent over his gracious humility toward a humble peasant woman.
When breakfast was over, the housewife told the king to wash up the dishes. This command was a staggerer for a moment, and the king came near rebelling; but then he said to himself, "Alfred the Great watched the cakes; doubtless he would have washed the dishes, too-therefore will I essay it."
Rembrandt Painting
He made a sufficiently poor job of it; and to his surprise, too, for the cleaning of wooden spoons and trenchers had seemed an easy thing to do. It was a tedious and troublesome piece of work, but he finished it at last. He was becoming impatient to get away on his journey now; however he was not to lose this thrifty dame's society so easily. She furnished him some little odds and ends of employment, which he got through with after a fair fashion and with some credit.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Then, seeing how troubled he was over his violated trust, she softened at once and was all goodness and gentleness toward him.
The boy made a hearty and satisfying meal, and was greatly refreshed and gladdened by it. It was a meal which was distinguished by this curious feature, that rank was waived on both sides; yet neither recipient of the favor was aware that it had been extended. The goodwife had intended to feed this young tramp with broken victuals in a corner
The Singing Butler
like any other tramp, or like a dog; but she was so remorseful for the scolding she had given him, that she did what she could to atone for it by allowing him to sit at the family table and eat with his betters, on ostensible terms of equality with them; and the king, on his side, was so remorseful for having broken his trust, after the family had been so kind to him, that he forced himself to atone for it by humbling himself to the family level, instead of requiring the woman and her children to stand and wait upon him while he occupied their table in the solitary state due his birth and dignity.
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
Full of eagerness to prove her sagacity, she told the king to mind the cooking a moment-hinting that he might manufacture and add a dish or two, if he chose-then she went out of the room and gave her children a sign to follow after. The king muttered:
"Another English king had a commission like to this, in a bygone time-it is nothing against my dignity to undertake an office which the great Alfred stooped to assume. But I will try to better serve my trust than he; for he let the cakes burn."
Jack Vettriano Painting
The intent was good, but the performance was not answerable to it; for this king, like the other one, soon fell into deep thinkings concerning his vast affairs, and the same calamity resulted-the cookery got burned. The woman returned in time to save the breakfast from entire destruction; and she promptly brought the king out of his dreams with a brisk and cordial tongue-lashing.
Jack Vettriano Painting

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting so he told his tale with feeling, forgetting even his hunger for the time; and it was received with the deepest and tenderest sympathy by the gentle little maids. But when he got down to his latest experiences and they learned how long he had been without food, they cut him short and hurried him away to the farmhouse to find a breakfast for him.
Van Gogh Painting
The king was cheerful and happy now, and said to himself, "When I am come to mine own again, I will always honor little children, remembering how that these trusted me and believed in me in my time of trouble; whilst they that were older, and thought themselves wiser, mocked at me and held me for a liar."
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
"Didst hear him, Margery?-he saith he is the king. Can that be true?"
"How can it be else but true, Prissy? Would he say a lie? For look you, Prissy, an it were not true, it would be a lie. It surely would be. Now think on't. For all things that be not true, be lies-thou canst make naught else out of it."
It was a good, tight argument, without a leak in it anywhere; and it left Prissy's half-doubts not a leg to stand on. She considered a moment, then put the king upon his honor with the simple remark
Henri Matisse Painting
"If thou art truly the king, then I believe thee."
"I am truly the king."
This settled the matter. His majesty's royalty was accepted without further question or discussion, and the two little girls began at once to inquire into how he came to be where he was, and how he came to be so unroyally clad, and whither he was bound, and all about his affairs. It was a mighty relief to him to pour out his troubles where they would not be scoffed at or doubted;
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
They came still nearer, sidling shyly around and about him, examining him minutely from all points, as if he were some strange new kind of animal; but warily and watchfully the while, as if they half feared he might be a sort of animal that would bite, upon occasion. Finally they halted before him, holding each other's hands for protection, and took a good satisfying stare with their innocent eyes; then one of them plucked up all her courage and inquired with honest directness
Marc Chagall Painting
"Who art thou, boy?"
"I am the king," was the grave answer.
The children gave a little start, and their eyes spread themselves wide open and remained so during a speechless half-minute. Then curiosity broke the silence:
"The king? What king?"
"The king of England."
The children looked at each other-then at him-then at each other again-wonderingly, perplexedly-then one said
Marc Chagall Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
He thought he would rather die than touch it again. But he thought this false thought because he did not know the immortal strength of human curiosity. In no long time his hand was tremblingly groping again-against his judgment, and without his consent-but groping persistently on, just the same. It encountered a bunch of long hair; he shuddered, but followed up the hair and found what seemed to be a warm rope; followed up the rope and found an innocent calf; for the rope was not a rope at all, but the calf's tail.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
The king was cordially ashamed of himself for having gotten all that fright and misery out of so paltry a matter as a slumbering calf; but he need not have felt so about it, for it was not the calf that frightened him but a dreadful non-existent something which the calf stood for; and any other boy, in those old superstitous times, would have acted and suffered just as he had done.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
That was the question; but he did not know how to answer it. Should he leave these reasonably comfortable quarters and fly from this inscrutable horror? But fly whither? He could not get out of the barn; and the idea of scurrying blindly hither and thither in the dark, within the captivity of the four walls, with this phantom gliding after him, and visiting him with that soft hideous touch upon cheek or shoulder at every turn, was intolerable.
Modern Art Painting
It was easy to think this; but it was hard to brace himself up to try it. Three times he stretched his hand a little way out into the dark gingerly; and snatched it suddenly back, with a gasp-not because it had encountered anything, but because he had felt so sure it was just going to. But the fourth time he groped a little further, and his hand lightly swept against something soft and warm. This petrified him nearly with fright-his mind was in such a state that he could imagine the thing to be nothing else than a corpse, newly dead and still warm.
Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
and not quite warm enough; and besides gave out a pungent horsy odor that was almost suffocatingly powerful.
Although the king was hungry and chilly, he was also so tired and so drowsy that these latter influences soon began to get the advantage of the former, and he presently dozed off into a state of semi-consciousness. Then, just as he was on the point of losing himself wholly, he distinctly felt something touch him. He was broad awake in a moment
Art Painting
and gasping for breath. The cold horror of that mysterious touch in the dark almost made his heart stand still. He lay motionless, and listened, scarcely breathing. But nothing stirred, and there was no sound. He continued to listen, and wait, during what seemed a long time, but still nothing stirred, and there was no sound. So he began to drop into a drowse once more at last; and all at once he felt that mysterious touch again! It was a grisly thing, this light touch from this noiseless and invisible presence; it made the boy sick with ghostly fears. What should he do?
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
and nobody stirring. He got so cold, standing still, and the hospitable barn looked so enticing, that at last he resolved to risk everything and enter. He started swiftly and stealthily, and just as he was crossing the threshold he heard voices behind him. He darted behind a cask, within the barn, and stooped down. Two farm laborers came in, bringing the lantern with them, and fell to work, talking meanwhile. Whilst they moved about with the light, the king made good use of his eyes and took the bearings of what seemed to be a good-sized stall at the further end of the place, purposing to grope his way to it when he should be left to himself.
Famous painting
He also noted the position of a pile of horse-blankets, midway of the route, with the intent to levy upon them for the service of the crown of England for one night.
By and by the men finished and went away, fastening the door behind them and taking the lantern with them. The shivering king made for the blankets, with as good speed as the darkness would allow; gathered them up and then groped his way safely to the stall. Of two of the blankets he made a bed, then covered himself with the remaining two. He was a glad monarch now, though the blankets were old and thin
Famous painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
the king's face lighted at once! Ah, she had hunted him down at last, she thought; and she was right proud, too, of the devious shrewdness and tact which had accomplished it.
Her tired tongue got a chance to rest now; for the king's, inspired by gnawing hunger and the fragrant smells that came from the sputtering pots and pans, turned itself loose and delivered itself up to such an eloquent dissertation upon certain toothsome dishes, that within three minutes the woman said to herself
Mary Cassatt painting
"Of a truth I was right-he hath holpen in a kitchen!" Then he broadened his bill of fare, and discussed it with such appreciation and animation, that the goodwife said to herself, "Good lack! how can he know so many dishes, and so fine ones withal? For these belong only upon the tables of the rich and great. Ah, now I see! ragged outcast as he is, he must have served in the palace before his reason went astray; yes, he must have helped in the very kitchen of the king himself! I will test him."
Mary Cassatt painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
The woman was mightily puzzled; but she did not give up. As she proceeded with her cooking, she set herself to contriving devices to surprise the boy into betraying his real secret. She talked about cattle-he showed no concern; then about sheep-the same result-so her guess that he had been a shepherd boy was an error; she talked about mills; and about weavers, tinkers, smiths, trades and tradesmen of all sorts; and about Bedlam, and jails, and charitable retreats
Edward Hopper Painting
but no matter, she was baffled at all points. Not altogether, either; for she argued that she had narrowed the thing down to domestic service. Yes, she was sure she was on the right track now-he must have been a house-servant. So she led up to that. But the result was discouraging. The subject of sweeping appeared to weary him; fire-building failed to stir him; scrubbing and scouring awoke no enthusiasm. Then the goodwife touched, with a perishing hope, and rather as a matter of form, upon the subject of cooking. To her surprise, and her vast delight
Edward Hopper Painting

van gogh sunflower

van gogh sunflower

The children's mother received the king kindly, and was full of pity; for his forlorn condition and apparently crazed intellect touched her womanly heart. She was a widow, and rather poor; consequently she had seen trouble enough to enable her to feel for the unfortunate. She imagined that the demented boy had wandered away from his friends or keepers; so she tried to find out whence he had come, in order that she might take measures to return him;
van gogh sunflower
but all her references to neighbouring towns and villages, and all her inquiries in the same line, went for nothing-the boy's face, and his answers, too, showed that the things she was talking of were not familiar to him. He spoke earnestly and simply about court matters; and broke down, more than once, when speaking of the late king "his father"; but whenever the conversation changed to baser topics, he lost interest and became silent.
van gogh sunflower

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
Pleasant thoughts came at once; life took on a cheerfuler seeming. He was free of the bonds of servitude and crime, free of the companionship of base and brutal outlaws; he was warm, he was sheltered; in a word, he was happy. The night wind was rising; it swept by in fitful gusts that made the old barn quake and rattle, then its forces died down at intervals, and went moaning and wailing around corners and projections-but it was all music to the king, now that he was snug and comfortable
Bouguereau William
let it blow and rage, let it batter and bang, let it moan and wail, he minded it not, he only enjoyed it. He merely snuggled the closer to his friend, in a luxury of warm contentment, and drifted blissfully out of consciousness into a deep and dreamless sleep that was full of serenity and peace. The distant dogs howled, the melancholy kine complained; and the winds went on raging, whilst furious sheets of rain drove along the roof; but the majesty of England slept on undisturbed, and the calf did the same, it being a simple creature and not easily troubled by storms or embarrassed by sleeping with a king.
Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
The king was not only delighted to find that the creature was only a calf, but delighted to have the calf's company; for he had been feeling so lonesome and friendless that the company and comradeship of even this humble animal was welcome. And he had been so buffeted, so rudely entreated by his own kind, that it was a real comfort to him to feel that he was at last in the society of a fellow-creature that had at least a soft heart and a gentle spirit, whatever loftier attributes might be lacking. So he resolved to waive rank and make friends with the calf.
Gustav Klimt Painting
While stroking its sleek, warm back-for it lay near him and within easy reach-it occurred to him that this calf might be utilized in more ways than one. Whereupon he rearranged his bed, spreading it down close to the calf; then he cuddled himself up to the calf's back, drew the covers up over himself and his friend, and in a minute or two was as warm and comfortable as he had ever been in the downy couches of the regal palace of Westminster.
Gustav Klimt Painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
a mournful sound; now and then came the complaining howl of a dog over viewless expanses of field and forest; all sounds were remote; they made the little king feel that all life and activity were far removed from him, and that he stood solitary, companionless, in the center of a measureless solitude.
Famous artist painting
He stumbled along, through the gruesome fascinations of this new experience, startled occasionally by the soft rustling of the dry leaves overhead, so like human whispers they seemed to sound; and by and by he came suddenly upon the freckled light of a tin lantern near at hand. He stepped back into the shadows and waited. The lantern stood by the open door of a barn. The king waited some time-there was no sound
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
The night came on, chilly and overcast; and still the footsore monarch labored slowly on. He was obliged to keep moving, for every time he sat down to rest he was soon penetrated to the bone with the cold. All his sensations and experiences, as he moved through the solemn gloom and the empty vastness of the night, were new and strange to him. At intervals he heard voices approach
Decorative painting
pass by, and fade into silence; and as he saw nothing more of the bodies they belonged to than a sort of formless drifting blur, there was something spectral and uncanny about it all that made him shudder. Occasionally he caught the twinkle of a light-always far away, apparently-almost in another world; if he heard the tinkle of a sheep's bell, it was vague, distant, indistinct; the muffled lowing of the herds floated to him on the night wind in vanishing cadences
Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
But Mrs. Bunting shook her head. She knew better. "Now," she said, "you go off up to bed. It's no use us sitting up any longer."
And Bunting acquiesced.
She ran down and got him a bedroom candle - there was no gas in the little back bedroom upstairs. And then she watched him go slowly up.
Abstract Painting
Suddenly he turned and came down again. "Ellen," he said, in an urgent whisper, "if I was you I'd take the chain off the door, and I'd lock myself in - that's what I'm going to do. Then he can sneak in and take his dirty money away.
Mrs. Bunting neither nodded nor shook her head. Slowly she went downstairs, and there she carried out half of Bunting's advice. She took, that is, the chain off the front door. But she did not go to bed, neither did she lock herself in. She sat up all night, waiting. At half-past seven she made herself a cup of tea, and then she went into her bedroom.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
"Well, he never seemed so to me," said Bunting stoutly. "He simply seemed to me 'centric - that's all he did. Not a bit madder than many I could tell you of." He was walking round the room restlessly, but he stopped short at last. "And what d'you think we ought to do now?"
Mrs. Bunting shook her head impatiently. "I don't think we ought to do nothing," she said. "Why should we?"
Rembrandt Painting
And then again he began walking round the room in an aimless fashion that irritated her.
"If only I could put out a bit of supper for him somewhere where he would get it! And his money, too? I hate to feel it's in there."
"Don't you make any mistake - he'll come back for that," said Bunting, with decision.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
Bunting stared at her. "What do you mean?" he said roughly. "Come upstairs and tell me what you mean."
And then, in what had been the lodger's sitting-room, Mrs. Bunting told her husband exactly what it was that had happened.
He listened in heavy silence.
"So you see," she said at last, "you see, Bunting, that 'twas me that was right after all. The lodger was never responsible for his actions. I never thought he was, for my part."
The Singing Butler
And Bunting stared at her ruminatingly. "Depends on what you call responsible - " he began argumentatively.
But she would have none of that. "I heard the gentleman say myself that he was a lunatic," she said fiercely. And then, dropping, her voice, "A religious maniac - that's what he called him."
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
What makes you think he mayn't come back?" he muttered.
"Too long to tell you now," she said. "Wait till the child's gone to bed."
And Bunting had to restrain his curiosity.
And then, when at last Daisy had gone off to the back room where she now slept with her stepmother, Mrs. Bunting beckoned to her husband to follow her upstairs.
Jack Vettriano Painting
Before doing so he went down the passage and put the chain on the door. And about this they had a few sharp whispered words.
"You're never going to shut him out?" she expostulated angrily, beneath her breath.
"I'm not going to leave Daisy down here with that man perhaps walking in any minute."
"Mr. Sleuth won't hurt Daisy, bless you! Much more likely to hurt me," and she gave a half sob.
Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
I'll go down and start getting the lodger's supper ready for you," said the girl good-naturedly. "He's certain to come in when he gets hungry. But he did look upset, didn't he, Ellen? Right down bad - that he did!"
Mrs. Bunting made no answer; she simply stepped aside to allow Daisy to go down.
Mary Cassatt painting
"Mr. Sleuth won't never come back no more," she said sombrely, and then she felt both glad and angry at the extraordinary change which came over her husband's face. Yet, perversely, that look of relief, of right-down joy, chiefly angered her, and tempted her to add, "That's to say, I don't suppose he will."
And Bunting's face altered again; the old, anxious, depressed look, the look it had worn the last few days, returned.
Mary Cassatt painting

van gogh sunflower

van gogh sunflower
Turning abruptly, she went into the lodger's bedroom and opened the drawer of the looking-glass.
Yes, there lay the much-diminished heap of sovereigns. If only he had taken his money out with him! She wondered painfully whether he had enough on his person to secure a good night's lodging, and then suddenly she remembered that which brought relief to her mind. The lodger had given something to that Hopkins fellow - either a sovereign or half a sovereign, she wasn't sure which.
van gogh sunflower
The memory of Mr. Sleuth's cruel words to her, of his threat, did not disturb her overmuch. It had been a mistake - all a mistake. Far from betraying Mr. Sleuth, she had sheltered him - kept his awful secret as she could not have kept it had she known, or even dimly suspected, the horrible fact with which Sir John Burney's words had made her acquainted; namely, that Mr. Sleuth was victim of no temporary aberration, but that he was, and had been for years, a madman, a homicidal maniac.
van gogh sunflower

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
His left hand shot out and placed what he had been fumbling for in his pocket on the other's bare palm. "I see there's an emergency exit over there. Would it be possible for me to get out that way?"
"Well, yes, sir; I think so."
The man hesitated; he felt a slight, a very sight, feeling of misgiving. He looked at Daisy, flushed and smiling, happy and unconcerned, and then at Mrs.
Bouguereau William
Bunting. She was very pale; but surely her lodger's sudden seizure was enough to make her feel worried. Hopkins felt the half -sovereign pleasantly tickling his palm. The Paris Prefect of Police had given him only half-a-crown - mean, shabby foreigner!
"Yes, sir; I can let you out that way," he said at last, "and p'raps when you're standing out in the air, on the iron balcony, you'll feel better. But then, you know, sir, you'll have to come round to the front if you wants to come in again, for those emergency doors only open outwardBouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
Put I am protected by a higher power, for I still have much to do." Then, his voice sinking to a whisper, he hissed out "Your end will be bitter as wormwood and sharp as a two-edged sword. Your feet shall go down to death, and your steps take hold on hell."
Even while Mr. Sleuth was muttering these strange, dreadful words, he was looking round, glancing this way and that, seeking a way of escape.
Gustav Klimt Painting
At last his eyes became fixed on a small placard placed above a curtain. "Emergency Exit" was written there. Mrs. Bunting thought he was going to make a dash for the place; but Mr. Sleuth did something very different. Leaving his landlady's side, he walked over to the turnstile, he fumbled in his pocket for a moment, and then touched the man on the arm. "I feel ill," he said, speaking very rapidly; "very ill indeed! It is the atmosphere of this place. I want you to let me out by the quickest way. It would be a pity for me to faint here - especially with ladies about."
Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Hurry up, Mrs. Bunting," said the turnstile-keeper; "you and your friends will have the place all to yourselves for a bit." From an official he had become a man, and it was the man in Mr. Hopkins that gallantly addressed pretty Daisy Bunting: "It seems strange that a young lady like you should want to go in and see all those 'orrible frights," he said jestingly.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Mrs. Bunting, may I trouble you to come over here for a moment?"
The words were hissed rather than spoken by Mr. Sleuth's lips.
His landlady took a doubtful step towards him.
"A last word with you, Mrs. Bunting." The lodger's face was still distorted with fear and passion. "Do not think to escape the consequences of your hideous treachery. I trusted you, Mrs. Bunting, and you betrayed me!
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
Even had she wished to do so, she had neither the time nor the power to warn her lodger of his danger, for Daisy and her companion were now coming down the room, bearing straight for the Commissioner of Police. In another moment Mrs. Bunting's lodger and Sir John Burney were face to face.
Mr. Sleuth swerved to one side; there came a terrible change over his pale, narrow face; it became discomposed, livid with rage and terror.
Modern Art Painting
But, to Mrs. Bunting's relief - yes, to her inexpressible relief - Sir John Burney and his friends swept on. They passed Mr. Sleuth and the girl by his side, unaware, or so it seemed to her, that there was anyone else in the room hut themselves.
Modern Art Painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
In her ears there still rang the Frenchman's half careless yet confident question, "De Leipsic and Liverpool man?"
Following a sudden impulse, she went back into the sitting-room, and taking a black-headed pin out of her bodice stuck it amid the leaves of the Bible. Then she opened the Book, and looked at the page the pin had marked: -
Edward Hopper Painting
My tabernacle is spoiled and all my cords are broken . . . There is none to stretch forth my tent any more and to set up my curtains."
At last leaving the Bible open, Mrs. Bunting went downstairs, and as she opened the door of her sitting-room Daisy came towards her stepmother.
Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
The hours dragged on. All three felt moody and ill at ease. Daisy knew there was no chance that young Chandler would come in to-day.
About six o'clock Mrs. Bunting went upstairs. She lit the gas in Mr. Sleuth's sitting-room and looked about her with a fearful glance. Somehow everything seemed to speak to her of the lodger, there lay her Bible and his Concordance, side by side on the table, exactly as he had left chew
Van Gogh Painting
when he had come downstairs and suggested that ill-starred expedition to his landlord's daughter. She took few steps forward, listening the while anxiously for the familiar sound of the click in the door which would tell her that the lodger had come back, and then she went over to the window and looked out.
What a cold night for a man to be wandering about, homeless, friendless, and, as she suspected with a pang, with but very little money on him!
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
n vain Mr. Hopkins invited Mrs. Bunting and her pretty stepdaughter to step through into the Chamber of Horrors. "I think we ought to go straight home," said Mr. Sleuth's landlady decidedly. And Daisy meekly assented. Somehow the girl felt confused, a little scared by the lodger's sudden disappearance. Perhaps this unwonted feeling of hers was induced by the look of stunned surprise and, yes, pain, on her step-mother's face.
Henri Matisse Painting
Slowly they made their way out of the building, and when they got home it was Daisy who described the strange way Mr. Sleuth had been taken.
"I don't suppose he'll be long before he comes "home," said Bunting heavily, and he cast an anxious, furtive look at his wife. She looked as if stricken in a vital part; he saw from her face that there was something wrong - very wrong indeed.
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
But no - he thrust the thought the temptation, from him. Again a convulsive look of rage came over his face. He had remembered his landlady. How could the woman whom he had treated so generously have betrayed him to his arch-enemy? - to the official, that is, who had entered into a conspiracy years ago to have him confined - him, an absolutely sane man with a great avenging work to do in the world - in a lunatic asylum.
Marc Chagall Painting
He stepped out into the open air, and the curtain, falling-to behind him, blotted out the tall, thin figure from the little group of people who had watched him disappear.
Even Daisy felt a little scared. "He did look bad, didn't he, now?" she turned appealingly to Mr. Hopkins.
"Yes, that he did, poor gentleman - your lodger, too?" he looked sympathetically at Mrs. Bunting.
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
Yes, yes," said Mr. Sleuth hurriedly. "I quite understand! If I feel better I'll come in by the front way, and pay another shilling - that's only fair."
"You needn't do that if you'll just explain what happened here."
The man went and pulled the curtain aside, and put his shoulder against the door. It burst open, and the light, for a moment, blinded Mr. Sleuth.
The Birth of Venus
He passed his hand over his eyes. "Thank you," he muttered, "thank you. I shall get all right out there."
An iron stairway led down into a small stable yard, of which the door opened into a side street.
Mr. Sleuth looked round once more; he really did feel very ill - ill and dazed. How pleasant it would be to take a flying leap over the balcony railing and find rest, eternal rest, below.
The Birth of Venus

Art Painting

Art Painting
He arranged the whole thing with extraordinary cunning and intelligence, and we should probably have caught him long ago, were it not that he managed, when on his way out of the place, to annex a considerable sum of money in gold, with which the wages of the asylum staff were about to be paid. It is owing to that fact that his escape was. very wrongly, concealed -
Art Painting
He stopped abruptly, as if sorry he had said so much, and a moment later the party were walking in Indian file through the turnstile, Sir John Burney leading the way.
Mrs. Bunting looked straight before her. She felt - so she expressed it to her husband later - as if she had been turned to stone.
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
Four murders of the kind were committed eight years ago - two in Leipsic, the others, just afterwards, in Liverpool, - and there were certain peculiarities connected with the crimes which made it clear they were committed by the same hand. The perpetrator was caught, fortunately for us, red-handed, just as he was leaving the house of his last victim, for in Liverpool the murder was committed in a house.
Famous painting
I myself saw the unhappy man - I say unhappy, for there is no doubt at all that he was mad " - he hesitated, and added in a lower tone-" suffering from an acute form of religious mania. I myself saw him, as I say, at some length. But now comes the really interesting point. I have just been informed that a month ago this criminal lunatic, as we must of course regard him, made his escape from the asylum where he was confined.
Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting Several of those standing near by uttered expressions of surprise and incredulity.
"Then why don't you catch him?" cried the girl indignantly.
"I didn't say we knew where he was; I only said we knew who he was, or, rather, perhaps I ought to say that I personally have a very strong suspicion of his identity."
Famous artist painting
Sir John's French colleague looked up quickly. "De Leipsic and Liverpool man?" he said interrogatively.
The other nodded. "Yes, I suppose you've had the case turned up?"
Then, speaking very quickly, as if he wished to dismiss the subject from his own mind, and from that of his auditors, he went on:
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
D'you mean, Sir John, that murderers sometimes escape scot-free? Take the man who has been committing all these awful murders this last month? I suppose there's no doubt he'll be hanged - if he's ever caught, that is!"
Her girlish voice rang out, and Mrs. Bunting could hear every word that was said.
Decorative painting
The whole party gathered round, listening eagerly. "Well, no." He spoke very deliberately. "I doubt if that particular murderer ever will be hanged."
"You mean that you'll never catch him?" the girl spoke with a touch of airy impertinence in her clear voice.
"I think we shall end by catching him - because" - he waited a moment, then added in a lower voice - "now don't give me away to a newspaper fellow, Miss Rose - because now I think we do know who the murderer in question is -
Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
Mrs. Bunting suddenly stood up. She made a strong effort, and shook off her awful sense of apprehension and unease. Feeling for the handle of the door giving into the passage she turned it, and then, with light, firm steps, she went down into the kitchen.
When they had first taken the house, the basement had been made by her care, if not into a pleasant, then, at any rate, into a very clean place.
Abstract Painting
She had had it whitewashed, and against the still white walls the gas stove loomed up, a great square of black iron and bright steel. It was a large gas-stove, the kind for which one pays four shillings a quarter rent to the gas company, and here, in the kitchen, there was no foolish shilling-in-the-slot arrangement. Mrs. Bunting was too shrewd a woman to have anything to do with that kind of business. There was a proper gas-meter, and she paid for what she consumed after she had consumed it.
Abstract Painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
But her husband went on as if he had not heard her, and she gave up trying to listen to what was going on above.
"It wouldn't be very pleasant to run up against such a party as that in the fog, eh, Ellen?" He spoke as if the notion had a certain pleasant thrill in it after all.
Edward Hopper Painting
What stuff you do talk!" said Mrs. Bunting sharply. And then she got up. Her husband's remarks had disturbed her. Why couldn't they talk of something pleasant when they did have a quiet bit of time together?
Bunting looked down again at his paper, and she moved quietly about the room. Very soon it would be time for supper, and to-night she was going to cook her husband a nice piece of toasted cheese. That fortunate man, as she was fond of telling him, with mingled contempt and envy
Edward Hopper Painting

van gogh sunflower

van gogh sunflower
It isn't safe for decent folk to be out in such weather - no, that it ain't, not unless they have something to do that won't wait till to-morrow." The speaker was looking straight into his wife's narrow, colourless face. Bunting was an obstinate man, and liked to prove himself right. "I've a good mind to speak to him about it, that I have! He ought to be told that it isn't safe - not for the sort of man he is - to be wandering about the streets at night.
van gogh sunflower
I read you out the accidents in Lloyd's - shocking, they were, and all brought about by the fog! And then, that horrid monster 'ull soon be at his work again - "
"Monster?" repeated Mrs. Bunting absently.
She was trying to hear the lodger's footsteps overhead. She was very curious to know whether he had gone into his nice sitting-room, or straight upstairs, to that cold experiment-room, as he now always called it.
van gogh sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
Bunting laid the paper he had been reading down on his knee. "I can't think why he wanted to go out in such weather," he said impatiently.
"Well, it's none of your business, Bunting, now, is it?"
"No, that's true enough. Still, 'twould be a very bad thing for us if anything happened to him. This lodger's the first bit of luck we've had for a terrible long time, Ellen."
Van Gogh Painting
Mrs. Bunting moved a little impatiently in her high chair. She remained silent for a moment. What Bunting had said was too obvious to be worth answering. Also she was listening, following in imagination her lodger's quick, singularity quiet progress - "stealthy" she called it to herself - through the fog-filled, lamp-lit hall. Yes, now he was going up the staircase. What was that Bunting was saying ?
Van Gogh Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
Mrs. Bunting thought of Mr. Sleuth's money. He never received a letter, and yet he must have some kind of income - so much was clear. She supposed he went and drew his money, in sovereigns, out of a bank as he required it.
Her mind swung round, consciously, deliberately, away from Mr. Sleuth.
Rembrandt Painting
The Avenger? What a strange name! Again she assured herself that there would come a time when The Avenger, whoever he was, must feel satiated; when he would feel himself to be, so to speak, avenged.
To go back to Mr. Sleuth; it was lucky that the lodger seemed so pleased, not only with the rooms, but with his landlord and landlady - indeed, there was no real reason why Mr. Sleuth should ever wish to leave such nice lodgings.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
She groped her way to a chair and sat down. She felt very tired - strangely tired, as if she had gone through some great physical exertion.
Yes, it was true that Mr. Sleuth had brought her and Bunting luck, and it was wrong, very wrong, of her ever to forget that.
The Singing Butler
As she sat there she also reminded herself, and not for the first time, what the lodger's departure would mean. It would almost certainly mean ruin; just as his staying meant all sorts of good things, of which physical comfort was the least. If Mr. Sleuth stayed on with them, as he showed every intention of doing, it meant respectability, and, above all, security.
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
At first she heard nothing, but gradually there stole on her listening ears the sound of someone moving softly about in the room just overhead, that is, in Mr. Sleuth's bedroom. But, try as she might, it was impossible for her to guess what the lodger was doing.
Jack Vettriano Painting
At last she heard him open the door leading out on the little landing. She could hear the stairs creaking. That meant, no doubt, that Mr. Sleuth would pass the rest of the evening in the cheerless room above. He hadn't spent any time up there for quite a long while-in fact, not for nearly ten days. 'Twas odd he chose to-night, when it was so foggy, to carry out an experiment.
Jack Vettriano Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
Mrs. Bunting nodded.
Mrs. Crowley had been one of Bunting's ladies, one of those he had liked best - a cheerful, jolly lady, who used often to give her servants what she called a treat. It was seldom the kind of treat they would have chosen for themselves, but still they appreciated her kind thought.
Gustav Klimt Painting
Mrs. Crowley used to say," went on Bunting, in his slow, dogmatic way, "that she never minded how bad the weather was in London, so long as it was London and not the country. Mr. Crowley, he liked the country best, but Mrs. Crowley always felt dull-like there. Fog never kept her from going out - no, that it didn't. She wasn't a bit afraid. But - " he turned round and looked at his wife - " I am a bit surprised at Mr. Sleuth. I should have thought him a timid kind of gentleman - " Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
That's never Mr. Sleuth going out?" He turned on his wife, startled. "Why, the poor gentleman'll come to harm - that he will! One has to be wide awake on an evening like this. I hope he hasn't taken any of his money out with him."
"'Tisn't the first time Mr. Sleuth's been out in a fog," said Mrs. Bunting sombrely.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
Somehow she couldn't help uttering these over-true words. And then she turned, eager and half frightened, to see how Bunting had taken what she said.
But he looked quite placid, as if he had hardly heard her. "We don't get the good old fogs we used to get - not what people used to call 'London particulars.' I expect the lodger feels like Mrs. Crowley - I've often told you about her, Ellen?"
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
had the digestion of an ostrich, and yet he was rather fanciful, as gentlemen's servants who have lived in good places often are.
Yes, Bunting was very lucky in the matter of his digestion. Mrs. Bunting prided herself on having a nice mind, and she would never have allowed an unrefined word - such a word as "stomach," for instance, to say nothing of an even plainer term - to pass her lips, except, of course, to a doctor in a sick-room.
Mary Cassatt painting
Mr. Sleuth's landlady did not go down at once into her cold kitchen; instead, with a sudden furtive movement, she opened the door leading into her bedroom, and then, closing the door quietly, stepped back into the darkness, and stood motionless, listening.
Mary Cassatt painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
here he is at last, and I'm glad of it, Ellen. 'Tain't a night you would wish a dog to be out in."
Bunting's voice was full of relief, but he did not turn round and look at his wife as he spoke; instead, he continued to read the evening paper he held in his hand.
Henri Matisse Painting
He was still close to the fire, sitting back comfortably in his nice arm-chair. He looked very well - well and ruddy. Mrs. Bunting stared across at him with a touch of sharp envy, nay, more, of resentment. And this was very curious, for she was, in her own dry way, very fond of Bunting.
"You needn't feel so nervous about him; Mr. Sleuth can look out for himself all right."
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
At last she let her needle remain idle, and the bit of cambric slipped down on her knee, while she listened, longingly, for Mr. Sleuth's return home.
And as the minutes sped by she fell to wondering with a painful wonder if she would ever see her lodger again, for, from what she knew of Mr. Sleuth, Mrs. Bunting felt sure that if he got into any kind of - well, trouble outside, he would never betray where he had lived during the last few weeks.
Marc Chagall Painting
, in such a case the lodger would disappear in as sudden a way as he had come. And Bunting would never suspect, would never know, until, perhaps - God, what a horrible thought - a picture published in some newspaper might bring a certain dreadful fact to Bunting's knowledge.
But if that happened - if that unthinkably awful thing came to pass, she made up her mind, here and now, never to say anything. She also would pretend to be amazed, shocked, unutterably horrified at the astounding revelation.
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

TheBirth of Venus
At last to his wife's relief, Bunting got up too. He went over to the cupboard where he kept his little store of books, and took one out.
"I think I'll read a bit," he said. "Seems a long time since I've looked at a book. The papers was so jolly interesting for a bit, but now there's nothing in 'em."
His wife remained silent. She knew what he meant. A good many days had gone by since the last two Avenger murders, and the papers had very little to say about them that they hadn't said in different language a dozen times before.
The Birth of Venus
She went into her bedroom and came back with a bit of plain sewing.
Mrs. Bunting was fond of sewing, and Bunting liked to see her so engaged. Since Mr. Sleuth had come to be their lodger she had not had much time for that sort of work.
It was funny how quiet the house was without either Daisy, or - or the lodger, in it.
The Birth of Venus

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
He waited a moment, and she felt forced to answer him.
"I wouldn't exactly call him timid," she said, in a low voice, "but he is very quiet, certainly. That's why he dislikes going out when there are a lot of people bustling about the streets. I don't suppose he'll be out long."
She hoped with all her soul that Mr. Sleuth would be in very soon - that he would be daunted by the now increasing gloom.
Bouguereau William
Somehow she did not feel she could sit still for very long. She got up, and went over to the farthest window.
The fog had lifted, certainly. She could see the lamp-lights on the other side of the Marylebone Road, glimmering redly; and shadowy figures were hurrying past, mostly making their way towards the Edgware Road, to see the Christmas shops. Bouguereau William

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
She wandered over to the window, and pulled the curtain back. "Quite a lot of people have come out, anyway," she observed.
"There's a fine Christmas show in the Edgware Road. I was thinking of asking if you wouldn't like to go along there with me."
"No," she said dully. "I'm quite content to stay at home."
Modern Art Painting
She was listening - listening for the sounds which would betoken that the lodger was coming downstairs.
At last she heard the cautious, stuffless tread of his rubber-soled shoes shuffling along the hall. But Bunting only woke to the fact when the front door shut to.
Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
contented innkeeper and his wife, who, living at the entrance to a wood, killed all those humble travellers who took shelter under their roof, simply for their clothes, and any valuables they possessed. But in all those stories the murderer or murderers always had a very strong motive, the motive being, in almost every case, a wicked lust for gold.
At last, after having passed her handkerchief over her forehead, she went into the room where Bunting was sitting smoking his pipe.
Art Painting
"The fog's lifting a bit," she said in an ill-assured voice. I hope that by this time Daisy and that Joe Chandler are right out of it."
But the other shook his head silently. "No such luck!" he said briefly. "You don't know what it's like in Hyde Park, Ellen. I expect 'twill soon be just as heavy here as 'twas half an hour ago!"
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
As she stood in the hall, cooling her hot forehead, all these thoughts, these hopes and fears, jostled at lightning speed through her brain.
She remembered what young Chandler had said the other day - that there had never been, in the history of the world, so strange a murderer as The Avenger had proved himself to be. Famous painting
She and Bunting, aye, and little Daisy too, had hung, fascinated, on Joe's words, as he had told them of other famous series of murders which had taken place in the past, not only in England but abroad - especially abroad.
One woman, whom all the people round her believed to be a kind, respectable soul, had poisoned no fewer than fifteen people in order to get their insurance money. Then there had been the terrible tale of an apparently respectable
Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
Often and often, when lying wide awake at night, she turned over the strange problem in her mind. After all, the lodger must have lived somewhere during his forty-odd years of life. She did not even know if Mr. Sleuth had any brothers or sisters; friends she knew he had none. But, however odd and eccentric he was, he had evidently, or so she supposed, led a quiet, undistinguished kind of life, till - till now.
Famous artist painting
What had made him alter all of a sudden - if, that is, he had altered? That was what Mrs. Bunting was always debating fitfully with herself; and, what was more, and very terribly, to the point, having altered, why should he not in time go back to what he evidently had been - that is, a blameless, quiet gentleman?
If only he would! If only he would! Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
In fact, it may almost be said that such betrayal has never taken place unless the betrayer has been actuated by love of gain, or by a longing for revenge. So far, perhaps because she is subject rather than citizen, her duty as a component part of civilised society weighs but lightly on woman's shoulders.
And then - and then, in a sort of way, Mrs. Bunting had become attached to Mr.
Decorative painting
Sleuth. A wan smile would sometimes light up his sad face when he saw her come in with one of his meals, and when this happened Mrs. Bunting felt pleased - pleased and vaguely touched. In between those - those dreadful events outside, which filled her with such suspicion, such anguish and such suspense, she never felt any fear, only pity, for Mr. Sleuth.
Decorative painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
"Will you just look at the bedroom, sir?"
"No," he said, "no. I think I should like to see what you have farther up the house, Mrs. - ," and then, as if making a prodigious mental effort, he brought out her name, "Bunting," with a kind of gasp.
Abstract Painting
"The two top rooms were, of course, immediately above the drawing-room floor. But they looked poor and mean, owing to the fact that they were bare of any kind of ornament. Very little trouble had been taken over their arrangement; in fact, they bad been left in much the same condition as that in which the Buntings had found them.
Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
"Will you just look at the bedroom, sir?"
"No," he said, "no. I think I should like to see what you have farther up the house, Mrs. - ," and then, as if making a prodigious mental effort, he brought out her name, "Bunting," with a kind of gasp.
Abstract Painting
"The two top rooms were, of course, immediately above the drawing-room floor. But they looked poor and mean, owing to the fact that they were bare of any kind of ornament. Very little trouble had been taken over their arrangement; in fact, they bad been left in much the same condition as that in which the Buntings had found them.
Abstract Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
On the dark-green walls hung a series of eight engravings, portraits of early Victorian belles, clad in lace and tarletan ball dresses, clipped from an old Book of Beauty. Mrs. Bunting was very fond of these pictures; she thought they gave the drawing-room a note of elegance and refinement.
As she hurriedly turned up the gas she was glad, glad indeed, that she had summoned up sufficient energy, two days ago, to give the room a thorough turn-out.
The Singing Butler
It had remained for a long time in the state in which it had been left by its last dishonest, dirty occupants when they had been scared into going away by Bunting's rough threats of the police. But now it was in apple-pie order, with one paramount exception, of which Mrs. Bunting was painfully aware. There were no white curtains to the windows, but that omission could soon be remedied if this gentleman really took the lodgings.
The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
And then she turned and led the way up the steep, narrow staircase.
At the top of the first flight of stairs was what Mrs. Bunting, to herself, called the drawing-room floor. It consisted of a sitting-room in front, and a bedroom behind. She opened the door of the sitting-room and quickly lit the chandelier.
Jack Vettriano Painting
This, front room was pleasant enough, though perhaps a little over-encumbered with furniture. Covering the floor was a green carpet simulating moss; four chairs were placed round the table which occupied the exact middle of the apartment, and in the corner, opposite the door giving on to the landing, was a roomy, old-fashioned chiffonnier.
Jack Vettriano Painting