Henri Matisse The Blue Window

Henri Matisse The Blue WindowHenri Matisse Spanish Still LifeHenri Matisse Moroccan LandscapeHenri Matisse Moorish ScreenHenri Matisse Luxe I
Victor eased himself carefully out of the music pit, which was now several feet in the air, and ran over to Ginger. She was on her knees, and sobbing.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Where died watching a click,’ he said. ‘Yeah. A comedy,’ said Gaspode, trotting ahead of him.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘They’re all grinnin’.’
‘Gaspode!’
‘Well, you’ve got to look on the bright side, haven’t you?’ sneered the dog. ‘Can’t go around bein’ miserable jus’ because you’re in some lost underground tomb with a mad cat lover an’ a torch that’s goin’ to go out any minute‑‘am I? What’s happening?’‘I couldn’t even begin to explain.’The torch was spluttering on the floor. It wasn’t an actinic fire now, it was just a piece of charred and nearly extinguished driftwood. Victor grabbed it and waved it around until a dull yellow flame appeared.‘Gaspode?’ he snapped.‘Yeah?’‘You two dogs lead the way.’‘Oh, thank you very much.’Ginger clung to him as they lurched back up the aisle. Despite the incipient terror, Victor had to admit that it was a very pleasant sensation. He looked around at the occasional occupants of the seats and shuddered.‘It looks as though they