Jean Beraud Le Bal Mabile

Jean Beraud Le Bal MabileJean Beraud Jeune femme traversant le boulevardJean Beraud A Game of BilliardsHenri Rousseau The Football Players
She looked up at Rincewind and scowled.
Then he sensed something. Perhaps it was a barely heard footstep behind him, perhaps it was movement reflected n her eyes – but he ducked.
Something whistled through the air where his neck had been and glanced off Twoflower's bald head. Rincewind spun round to see the archdruid readying his sickle for another swing and, in the absence of any hope of running away, lashed out desperately with a foot.
It caught the After a moment he said, from his prone position, 'Don't just shtand there, you daft bitcsh – help me up.' Much to Rincewind's amazement, and almost certainly to hers as well, she did so.
Rincewind, meanwhile, was trying to rouse Twoflower. There was a graze druid squarely on the kneecap. As the man screamed and dropped his weapon there was a nasty little fleshy sound and he fell forward. Behind him the little man with the long beard pulled his sword from the body, wiped it with a handful of snow, and said, 'My lumbago is giving me gyp. You can carry the treashure.''Treasure?' said Rincewind weakly.'All the necklashes and shtuff. All the gold collarsh. They've got lotsh of them. Thatsh prieshts for you,' said the old man wetly. 'Nothing but torc, torc, torc. Who'she the girl?''She won't let us rescue her,' said Rincewind. The girl looked at the old man defiantly through her smudged eyeshadow.'Bugger that,' he said, and with one movement picked her up, staggered a little, screamed at his arthritis and fell over.