Edgar Degas Dancers in Blue

Edgar Degas Dancers in BlueVincent van Gogh Olive groveThomas Kinkade Victorian Christmas
Gods, you don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," said another voice. The silence was suddenly full of babble.
"Are we still where we were?"
"I don't know. Where were we?"
"Here, I think."
"Can you reach out?"
"Not unless I am quite certain about what I'm going to touch, my good man," said the unmistakable voice of Granny Weatherwax.
"Everyone try and reach out," said Cutangle, and choked down a scream as a hand like a warm leather glove closed around his ankle. There was a satisfied little "ook", which managed to convey relief, comfort and the sheer joy of touching a fellow human being or, in this case, anthropoid.
There was a scratch and then a blessed flare of red light as a wizard on the far side of the room lit a cigarette.
"Who did that?"
"Sorry, "Yes."
"Ook."Archchancellor, force of habit." "Smoke all you like, that man." "Thank you, Archchancellor." "I think I can see the outline of the door now," said another voice. "Granny?" "Yes, I can definitely see -" "Esk?" "I'm here, Granny." "Can I smoke too, sir?" "Is the boy with you?"
"I'm here."
"What's happening?"