Francisco de Zurbaran Rest on the flight to Egypt

Francisco de Zurbaran Rest on the flight to EgyptClaude Lorrain Seaport with the Embarkation of the Queen of ShebaFrancisco de Zurbaran The Immaculate ConceptionArthur Hughes La Belle Dame Sans Merci
Vimes hated guessing games, but he joined the Patri-cian anyway.
The Oblong Office had a view over half the city, although most of it was rooftops and towers. Vimes' imagination peopled the towers , but the machine works. And that is the most important thing. The machine keeps going. Because when the machine breaks down . . .'
He turned suddenly, strode to his desk with his usual predatory stalk, and sat down.
'Or, again, sometimes a piece of grit might get into the wheels, throwing them off balance. One speck of grit.'
Vetinari looked up and flashed Vimes a mirthless smile.
'I won't have that.'
Vimes stared at the wall.with men holding gonnes. The Patrician would be an easy target.'What do you see out there, captain?''City of Ankh-Morpork, sir,' said Vimes, keeping his expression carefully blank.'And does it put you in mind of anything, captain?'Vimes scratched his head. If he was going to play gaames, he was going to play games . . .'Well, sir, when I was a kid we owned a cow once, and one day it got sick, and it was always my job to clean out the cowshed, and—''It reminds me of a clock,' said the Patrician. 'Big wheels, little wheels. All clicking away. The little wheels spin and the big wheels turn, all at different speeds, you see

Henri Rousseau The Waterfall

Henri Rousseau The WaterfallHenri Rousseau The Repast of the LionHenri Rousseau The Merry Jesters
'Perhaps we could fetch him a chair?' said Angua, after an embarrassing fifteen seconds.
Detritus sniggered.
'Him too little to be a guard,' he said.
Lance-Constable He looked at the remains of Arthur.
'I think around about now is a good time to demonstrate the fine points of harchery,' he said.

Lady Sybil Ramkin looked at the sad strip of leather that was all that remained of the late Chubby.
'Who'd do something like this to a poor little dragon?' she Cuddy stopped jumping up and down.'Sorry, sergeant,' he said, 'this isn't how dwarfs do it, see?''It's how guards do it,' said Sergeant Colon. 'All right, Lance-Constable Detritus – don't salute – you give it a try.'Detritus held the truncheon between what must technically be called thumb and forefinger, and smashed it over Arthur's helmet. He stared reflectively at the truncheon's stump. Then he bunched up his, for want of a better word, fist, and hammered Arthur over what was briefly its head until the stake was driven three feet into the ground.'Now the dwarf, he can have a go,' he said.There was another embarrassed five seconds. Sergeant Colon cleared his throat.'Well, yes, I think we can consider him thoroughly apprehended,' he said. 'Make a note, Corporal Nobbs. Lance-Constable Detritus – don't salute! - deducted one dollar for loss of truncheon. And you're supposed to be able to ask 'em questions afterwards.'

John Constable Hadleigh Castle

John Constable Hadleigh CastleJohn Constable Flatford MillJohn William Waterhouse The Magic CircleJohn William Waterhouse PandoraJohn William Waterhouse Lamia
sort of bookish insanity of the gloves-with-the-fingers-cut-out and carpet slippers variety, and became an expert on royalty would not see the truth then he, Edward d'Eath, was the finger of Destiny.
The problem with Destiny, of course, is that she is often not careful where she puts her finger.

Captain Sam Vimes, Ankh-Morpork City Guard (Night Watch), sat in the draughty anteroom to the Patrician's audience chamber with his best cloak on and his breastplate polished and his helmet on his knees.although no-one ever knew this because he seldom left his rooms. Corporal Carrot became Sergeant Carrot and, in the fullness of time, died in uniform aged seventy in an unlikely accident involving an anteater.In a million universes, Lance-Constables Cuddy and Detritus didn't fall through the hole. In a million universes, Vimes didn't find the pipes. (In one strange but theoretically possible universe the Watch House was redecorated in pastel colours by a freak whirlwind, which also repaired the door latch and did a few other odd jobs around the place.) In a million universes, the Watch failed. -In a million universes, this was a very short book.Edward dozed off with the book on his knees and had a dream. He dreamed of glorious struggle. Glorious was another important word in his personal vocabulary, like honour.If traitors and dishonourable men

Cao Yong Catalina

Cao Yong CatalinaCao Yong CAFE BELLACao Yong AGE OF INNOCENCE
sound very like doioinng.
The broomstick jerked ahead again, dumping Nanny Ogg in Casanunda’s lap.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t mention it. In fact, do it again if you like.”
“Get him, did you?”
“Took his breath away.”
“Good. Where’re the others?”
“Can’t see Terry Pratchett
through some bracken. Then it swung out on to an over-grown path.
“They aren’t following us anymore,” said Casanunda, after a while. “We’ve frightened them off, yes?”
“Not us. They’re nervy of going close to the Long Man. It’s not their turf. Huh, look at the state of this path. There’s trees growing in it now. When I was a girl, you wouldn’t find a blade of grass growing on the path.” She smiled at athem.”Casanunda grinned madly.“We showed them, eh?” Something went zip and stuck into Nanny Ogg’s hat. “They know we’ve got iron,” she said. “They won’t come close again. They don’t need to,” she added bitterly.The broomstick swerved around a tree and ploughed2471

Thomas Kinkade Fisherman's Wharf

Thomas Kinkade Fisherman's WharfThomas Kinkade elegant eveningThomas Kinkade Cobblestone Evening
have been if you’d been wedded to me.”
He caught up with her.
“Even young Ponder doesn’t think like this,” he said. “You’ve made up your mind that it would have been dread-ful, have you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why’d you think?”
“I asked you!”
“I’m too busy for from one universe to another.”
“Ever tried it?”
“No!”
“A circle is a door half open. It doesn’t need much to open it up all the way. Even belief 11 do it. That’s why they put the Dancers up, years ago. We got the dwarfs to do it. Thunderbolt iron, those stones. There’s something special about ‘em. They’ve got the love of iron. Don’t ask me how it works. Elves hate it even more than ordinary this,” said Granny. “Like I said, per-sonal ain’t the same as important. Make yourself useful, Mr. Wizard. You know it’s circle time, don’t you?”Ridcully’s hand touched the brim of his hat.“Oh, yes.”“And you know what that means?”“They tell me it means that the walls between realities186get weaker. The circles are . . . what’s the word Stibbons uses? Isoresons. They connect levels of, oh, something daft . .. similar levels of reality. Which is bloody stupid. You’d be able to walk

Cao Yong CAFE BELLA

Cao Yong CAFE BELLACao Yong AGE OF INNOCENCECao Yong AFTERNOON TEACao Yong cao yong Red Umbrella
How’d he get through?”
“He was holding on to me. I don’t know how it works. Maybe the stone . . . force opens to let humans through, or something. Just so long as his friends stay inside, that’s all I’m bothered about.”
Nanny heaved the unconscious elf on to her shoulders
without much effort.*
“Smells worse than the bottom of a goat’s bed,” she said.
“It’s a bath for me their hearts that the universe really doesn’t know what the hell is going on and consists of a zillion trillion billion possibilities, and could become any one of them if a trained mind rigid with quantum certainty was inserted in the crack and twisted;
that, if you really had to make someone’s hat explode, all you needed to do was twist into that universe where a large number of hat molecules all decide at the same time to bounce off in different directions.
Younger witches, on the other hand, talk about it all the time and believe it involves crystals, mystic forces, and danc-ing about without yer drawers on.when I get home.”“Oh, dear,” said Granny “It gets worse, don’t it?”l As has been pointed out earlier in the Discworld chronicles, entire agri-cultural economies have been based on the lifting power of little old ladies in black dresses.120LOR06 fitfQ LftD/£6What is magic?Then there is the witches’ explanation, which comes in two forms, depending on the age of the witch. Older witches hardly put words to it at all, but may suspect in

Pino MOTHER'S LOVE

Pino MOTHER'S LOVEPino Morning DreamsPino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLE
a lot from just watching bees. The activity, the direction, the way the guard bees acted . ..
They were acting extremely worried.
So she went for a lie down, as only Granny Weatherwax knew how.
Nanny Ogg tried a different way, which didn’t have much to do with witchcraft but did have a lot to do with her general Oggishness.
She sat for a lay on his back with all four paws in the air, doing his cele-brated something-found-in-the-gutter impersonation.
Finally Nanny got up and ambled thoughtfully down to Jason Ogg’s smithy.
A smithy always occupied an important position in the villages, doing the duty of town hall, meeting room, and general clearing house for gossip. Several men were loung-ing around in it now, filling in time between the normal Lancre occupations of poaching and watching the women do the work.
“Jason Ogg, I wants a word with you.”while in her spotless kitchen, drinking rum and smoking her foul pipe and staring at the paintings on the wall. They had been done by her youngest grandchildren in a dozen shades of mud, most of them of blobby stick fig-ures with the word GRAN blobbily blobbed in underneath in muddy blobby letters.l It was largely dark. 47Terry PratchettIn front of her the cat Greebo, glad to be home again,
The smithy emptied like magic. It was probably some-thing in Nanny Ogg’s tone of voice. But Nanny

Leonardo da Vinci Leda

Leonardo da Vinci LedaLeonardo da Vinci Leda 1530Leonardo da Vinci Lady With An Ermine
Aren't you going to watch the battle? I need someone to watch the battle."
Didactylos was sitting on a rock, his hands folded on his stick.
"Oh, hello," said Brutha, bitterly. "Welcome to Omnia."
"It helps if you're philosophical about it," said Didactylos.
"But there's no reason to fight!"
"Yes there is. Honor and revenge and duty and things like that."
"Do you really think so? I thought philosophers were supposed to be logical?"
Didactylos shrugged.
"Well, the way I see it, logic is only a way of being ignorant by numbers."
"I thought

Something like a golden comet sped across the sky of the Discworld. Om soared like an eagle, buoyed up by the freshness, by the strength of the belief. For as long as it lasted, anyway. Belief this hot, this desperate, never lasted long. Human minds could not sustain it. But while it did last, he was strong.
The central spire of Cori Celesti rises up from the mountains at the Hub, ten vertical miles of green ice and snow, topped by the turrets and domes of Dunmanifestin.it would all be over when Vorbis was dead."Didactylos stared into his inner world."It takes a long time for people like Vorbis to die. They leave echoes in history.""I know what you mean.""How's Urn's steam machine?" said Didactylos."I think he's a bit upset about it," said Brutha.Didactylos cackled and banged his stick on the ground."Hah! He's learning! Everything works both ways!""It should do," said Brutha.

Gustav Klimt The Beethoven Frieze

Gustav Klimt The Beethoven FriezeGustav Klimt Sea SerpentsGustav Klimt Pear Tree
him," said Brutha hoarsely. "It may mean that he's too far away. I keep on thinking that. He might be out there somewhere. Miles away!"
Lu-Tze smiled it and had a sip. It tasted like hot water with a lavender bag in it.
"You don't understand anything I'm talking about, do you?" said Brutha.
"Not much," said Lu-Tze.
"You can talk?"
Lu-Tze put a wisened finger to his lips.
"Big secret," he said.
Brutha looked at the little man. How much did he know about him? How much did anyone know about him?
"You talk to God," said Lu-Tze.
"How do you know that?"and nodded."It'll happen all over again. He never told anyone to do anything. Or not to do anything. He didn't care!"Lu-Tze nodded and smiled again. His teeth were yellow. They were in fact his two-hundredth set."He should have cared."Lu-Tze disappeared into his corner again and returned with a shallow bowl full of some kind of tea. He nodded and smiled and proffered it until Brutha took

Henri Rousseau Carnival Evening

Henri Rousseau Carnival EveningHenri Rousseau Boy on the RocksHenri Rousseau A Carnival EveningPaul Cezanne Three Bathers
did we do, Urn?" said Didactylos.
"We're fifty-two obols up, master."
"See? Every day things improve. Pity it didn't know the difference between ten and twelve, though. Cut one of its legs off and we'll have a stew."
"Cut off a leg?"
"Well, a tortoise like that, you don't eat it all at once."
Didactylos turned his face towards a plump young man with splayed feet and a red face, who was staring at the tortoise.
"Yes?" he said.
"The tortoise does know the difference between ten and twelve," said the fat boy.
"Damn thing just lost me eighty obols," said Didactylos.
"Yes. But tomorrow . . ." the boy began, his eyes glazing as if he was carefully repeating something he'd just heard ". . . tomorrow . . . you should be able to get odds of at least three to one."
Didactylos's follow."
"He's a God," said Brutha.
"Really? What's his name?" said the philosopher.
"Don't tell him! Don't tell him! The local gods'll hear!"
"I don't know," said Brutha.
Didactylos turned Om over.mouth dropped open."Give me the tortoise, Urn," he said.The apprentice philosopher reached down and picked up Om, very carefully."You know, I thought right at the start there was something funny about this creature," said Didactylos. "I said to Urn, there's tomorrow's dinner, and then he says no, it's dragging its tail in the sand and doing geometry. That doesn't come natural to a tortoise, geometry."Om's eye turned to Brutha."I had to," he said. "It was the only way to get his attention. Now I've got him by the curiosity. When you've got 'em by the curiosity, their hearts and minds will

Gustav Klimt The Virgin

Gustav Klimt The VirginGustav Klimt dancerGustav Klimt Adam and Eve
How old were you at that time?" said Vorbis.
"I was within one month of three years old, lord."
"I don't believe . Brutha was glad of the interruption.
"No, lord. Most things."
"You forget things?"
"Uh. There are sometimes things I don't remember." Brutha had heard about forgetfulness, although he found it hard to imagine. But there were times in his life, in the first few years of his life especially, when there was . . . nothing. Not an attrition of memory, but great locked rooms in the mansion of his recollection. Not forgottenthis," said the fat man.Brutha's mouth opened and shut once or twice. How did the fat man know? He hadn't been there!"You could be wrong, my son," said Vorbis. "You are a well­grown lad of . . . what . . . seventeen, eighteen years? We feel you could not really recall a chance glimpse of a foreign coin fifteen years ago.""We think that you are making it up," said the fat man.Brutha said nothing. Why make anything up? When it was just sitting there in his head."Can you remember everything that's ever happened to you?" said the stocky man, who had been watching Brutha carefully throughout the exchange

William Bouguereau Innocence

William Bouguereau InnocenceBill Brauer The Gold DressUnknown Artist Muhammad Ali pop art
box!'
'It could be treasure, do you think?'
'It's growing legs, by the Seven Moons of Nasreem!'
'Five I was a boy, when you lay in bed on that first morning in winter, and you could sort of taste it in the air and-’
The clouds parted below them and there, filling the high plains country from end to end, were the herds of the Ice Giants.
They stretched for miles in every direction, and the thunder of their stampede filled the air.
The bull glaciers were in the lead, bellowing their vast creaky calls and throwing up great sheets moons-’'Where'd it go? Where'd it go?''Never mind about that, it's not important. Let's get this straight, according to the legend it was five moons-'In Klatch they take their mythology seriously. It's only real life they don't believe. The three horsepersons sensed the change as they descended through the heavy snowclouds at the Hub end of the Sto Plain. There was a sharp scent in the air.'Can't you smell it?' said Nijel, 'I remember it when

Herbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and Deities

Herbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and DeitiesHerbert James Draper Pot PourriHerbert James Draper Portrait Of Miss Barbara De Selincourt
Luggage staggered to a halt and raised its lid threateningly. The basilisk hissed, but a little uncertainly, because it had never seen a walking box before, and certainly never one with lots of alligator teeth stuck in its lid. There were also scraps of leathery hide adhering to it, as though it had been involved in a fight in a handbag .
It blinked.

'He's talking through his hat,' said Rincewind.
'Eh?' said Nijel, who was beginning to realise that the world of the barbarian hero wasn't the clean, simple place he had imagined in the days when the most exciting thing he had ever done was stack parsnips.factory, and in a way that the basilisk wouldn't have been able to describe even if it could talk, it appeared to be glaring.Right, the reptile thought, if that's the way you want to play it.It turned on the Luggage a stare like a diamond drill, a stare that nipped in via the staree's eyeballs and flayed the brain from the inside, a stare that tore the frail net curtains on the windows of the soul, a stare that The basilisk realised something was very wrong. An entirely new and unwelcome sensation started to arise just behind its saucer-shaped eyes. It started small, like the little itch in those few square inches of back that no amount of writhing will allow you to scratch, and grew until it became a second, red­-hot, internal sun.The basilisk was feeling a terrible, overpowering and irresistible urge to blink ...It did something incredibly unwise

Thomas Kinkade The Edge of Wilderness

Thomas Kinkade The Edge of WildernessThomas Kinkade St. Nicholas CircleThomas Kinkade Silent Night
silence was so oppressive that Carding felt some­thing more was expected of him. Anything would be better than that silence.
'It's where we keep the books, you know. Ninety thousand volumes, isn't it, Spelter?'
'Um? Oh. Yes. About ninety thousand, I suppose.'
Coin leaned on the staff and stared.
'Burn them,' he said. 'All of them.'

Spelter let himself sag to his knees.
'He'll do it, too,' he whispered. 'He'll probably make me do it, it's that staff, um, it knows everything that's going on, it knows that I know about it ... please help me ...'
'Oook?'
'The other night, I looked into his room ... the staff, the staff was glowing, it was standing there in the middle of the room like a beacon and the boy was on the bed sobbing, I could feel it reaching out, teaching him, whispering terrible things, and then it noticed me, you've got to Midnight strutted its black stuff along the corridors of Unseen University as Spelter, with rather less confi­dence, crept cautiously towards the impassive doors of the Library. He knocked, and the sound echoed so loudly in the empty building that he had to lean against the wall and wait for his heart to slow down a bit.After a while he heard a sound like heavy furniture being moved about.'Oook?''It's me.''Oook?''Spelter.''Oook.''Look, you've got to get out! He's going to burn the Library!'There was no reply.

Vincent van Gogh Le Moulin de la Galette

Vincent van Gogh Le Moulin de la GaletteVincent van Gogh Farmhouse in ProvenceVincent van Gogh Wheat Field with Cypresses
lot quieter now and, to be honest, senior wizards tended to look upon actual magic as a bit beneath them. They tended to prefergrease and heat and shouting, vats of caviar, whole roast oxen, strings of sausages like paperchains strung from wall to wall, the head chef himself at work in one of the cold rooms putting the finishing touches to a model of the University carved for some inexplicable reason out of butter. He kept doing this every time there was a feast - administration, which was safer and nearly as much fun, and also big dinners.And so the long afternoon wore on. The hat squatted on its faded cushion in Wayzygoose's chambers, while he sat in his tub in front of the fire and soaped his beard. Other wizards dozed in their studies, or took a gentle stroll around the gardens in order to work up an appetite for the evening's feast; about a dozen steps was usually considered quite sufficient.In the Great Hall, under the carved or painted stares of two hundred earlier Archchancellors, the butler's staff set out the long tables and benches. In the vaulted maze of the kitchens -well, the imagination should need no assistance. It should include lots of butter swans, butter buildings, whole rancid greasy yellow menageries

Raphael Saint George and the Dragon

Raphael Saint George and the DragonGeorge Frederick Watts Sir GalahadGeorge Frederick Watts Love And Life
Death dismounted and helped Miss Flitworth down.
They walked over the snow to a frozen muddy track that hugged the mountain side.
‘Why are we here?’ said the spirit of Miss Flitworth.
I DO NOT SPECULATE ON COSMIC MATTERS.
‘I mean here on this mountain. Here on this geography,’ said Miss Flitworth patiently.
THAT IS NOT GEOGRAPHY.
‘What is it, Death adjusted Binky’s bridle, and mounted up. He paused for a moment to watch the two figures by the avalanche.
They had faded almost to invisibility, their voices no more than textured air.
‘All he said was “WHEREVER YOU GO, YOU GO TOGETHER.” I said wherethen?’HISTORY.They rounded a bend in the track. There was a pony there, eating a bush, with a pack on its back. The track ended in a wall of suspiciously clean snow.Death removed a lifetimer from the recesses of his robe.Now, he said, and stepped into the snow.She watched it for a moment, wondering if she could have done that too. Solidity was an awfully hard habit to give up.And then she didn’t have to.Someone came out.

Jean Fragonard The Bolt

Jean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two SistersJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Maria
had been very definite about the crypt. It gave the place ton, she said. You had to have a crypt anal a vault, otherwise the as an enquiry. And people said there was all this unemployment around. It made you livid.
He picked up another piece of wood and measured it, grimacing as he unfolded the ruler.
Arthur’s back ached from digging the moat. And that was another thing your posh vampire didn’t rest of vampire society would look down their teeth at you.They never told you about that sort of thing when you started vampiring. They never told you to build your own crypt out of some cheap two-by-four from Challry the Troll’s Wholesale Building Supplies. It wasn’t something that happened to most vampires, Arthur reflected. Not your proper vampires. Your actual Count Jugular, for example. No, a toff like him’d have someone for it. When the villagers came to burn the place down, you wouldn’t catch the Count his own self whipping down to the gate to drop the draw-bridge. Oh, no. He’d just say, ‘Igor’ - as it might be - ‘Igor, just svort it out, chop chop’.Huh. Well, they’d had an advert in Mr Keeble’s job shop for months now. Bed, three meals a day, and hump provided if necessary. Not so much

Edgar Degas After the Bath

Edgar Degas After the BathFrida Kahlo The FrameFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Necklace
we kick ass, or can we kick ass?’ burbled the Dean happily. ‘You mean can’t the second time, not can. And I’m not sure that a compost heap can be said to have an -‘ the Senior Wrangler began, but the tide of murmured.’I don’t like that. What’s next?
Walking statues?’
The wizards looked up at the statues of dead Archchancellors that lined the Great Hall and, indeed, most of the corridors of the University. The University had been in existence for thousands of years and the average Archchancellor remained in office for about eleven months, so there were plenty of statues.
‘You know, I really wish you hadn’t said that, ‘ said the Lecturer in Recent Runesexcitement was flowing against him.‘That’s one heap that won’t mess with wizards again,’ said the Dean, who was getting carried away.‘We’re keen and mean and -‘‘There’s three more of them out there, Modo says,’ said the Bursar.They fell silent.‘We could go and pick up our staffs, couldn’t we?’ said the Dean.prodded a piece of exploded heap with the toe of his boot.‘Dead things coming alive,’ he

Caravaggio Narcissus

Caravaggio NarcissusCaravaggio Madonna di LoretoThomas Moran Grand Canyon
myself have decided -‘
The Dean glowered at a very small bishop.
‘He kicked me! He kicked me!’
‘Ooo! I said the Archdeacon of Thrume, stoutly. There was a crash from above. A chaise-longue cantered down the stairs and smashed through the hall door.
‘I think perhaps the guards are still trying to free the Patrician,’ said the High Priest. ‘Apparently even his secret passages locked themselves.’ ‘All of them? I thought the sly devil had ‘em everywhere,’ said Ridcully.
‘All locked,’ said the High Priest. ‘All of them.’
‘Almost all of them,’ said a voice behind him.
never did, my son.’‘You bloody well did,’ the Dean hissed. ‘Sideways, so they wouldn’t see!’ ‘- have decided -‘ repeated Ridcully, glaring at the Dean, ‘to pursue a solution to the current disturbances in a spirit of brotherhood and goodwill and that includes you, Senior Wrangler.’‘I couldn’t help it! He pushed me.’‘Well! May you be forgiven!’
81

Albert Bierstadt Valley of the Yosemite

Albert Bierstadt Valley of the YosemiteAlbert Bierstadt the oregon trailSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema Caracalla and GetaFranz Marc The MonkeyFranz Marc Rinder
Bye, then, Windle,’ he said, shaking the old man’s parchment-like hand.’The old place won’t seem the same without you.’ ‘Don’t know how we’ll manage,’ said the Bursar, thankfully. ‘Good luck in the next life,’ said the Dean.’Drop in if you’re ever passing and happen to, you know, remember who you’ve been.’ ‘.
‘How are you feeling?’ said the Dean loudly.
‘Never felt better,’ said Windle.’Is there any more of that, mm, rum left?’ The assembled wizards watched him pour a generous measure into his beaker.
‘You want to go easy on that stuff,’ said the Dean nervously.Don’t be a stranger, you hear?’ said the Archchancellor. Windle Poons nodded amiably. He hadn’t heard what they were saying. He nodded on general principles.The wizards, as one man, faced the door.The hatch under the 12 snapped up again.‘Bing bing bong bing,’ said the demon.’Bingely-bingely bong bing bing.’‘What?’ said the Bursar, jolted.‘Half past nine, ‘ said the demon.The wizards turned to Windle Poons. They looked faintly accusing.‘What’re you all looking at?’ he said.The seconds hand on the watch squeaked onwards