Claude Monet Poplars

Claude Monet PoplarsJohannes Vermeer View Of DelftJohannes Vermeer The Kitchen MaidDiane Romanello Sunset Beach
Susan walked around the patch of carpet. The man took no notice.
The Death of Rats shinned up the table leg and landed on a slice of fried bread.
'Oh. It's you.'
SQUEAK.
The old man looked around.
'Where? Where?'
Susan stepped onto the carpet. The man stood up so quickly that his chair fell over.
'Who the hells are you?'
'Could you stop pointing that sharp bacon at me?'
'I asked you a question, young woman!'
'I'm Susan.' This The hippo of memory wallowed . . .
'. . . Albert . . .' said Susan, 'right?'didn't sound enough. 'Duchess of Sto Helit,' she added.The man's wrinkled face wrinkled still further as he strove to comprehend this. Then he turned away and threw his hands up in the air.'Oh, yes!' he bawled, to the room in general. 'That just puts the entire tin lid on it, that does!'He waved a finger at the Death of Rats, who leaned backwards.'You cheating little rodent! Oh, yes! I smell a rat here!'SQUEAK?The shaking finger stopped suddenly. The man spun around.'How did you manage to walk through the wall?''I'm sorry?' said Susan, backing away. 'I didn't know there was one.''What d'you call this, then, Klatchian mist?' The man slapped the air.
Albert thumped his forehead with the palm of his hand.
'Worse and worse! What've you been telling her?'