Henri Rousseau Eve

Henri Rousseau EveHenri Rousseau Carnival EveningHenri Rousseau Boy on the RocksHenri Rousseau A Carnival EveningPaul Cezanne Three Bathers
eyed the Sons of the Desert. It looked as though Dibbler had dropped in at Borgle’s and hired the twenty people nearest the door, irrespective of their appropriateness, and had given them each Dibbler’s idea of a desert bandit headdress. There were trollish Sons of the Desert Rock recognized him, and gave him a little wave - , with all the Sons following you and singing rousing desert bandit songs-’
‘No-one’ll hear them,’ said Soll helpfully. ‘But if they open and shut their mouths it’ll help create a, you know, amby-ance.’
‘But it isn’t night,’ said Ginger. ‘It’s broad daylight.’
Dibbler stared at her.
His mouth opened once or twice.
‘Soll!’ he shouted. dwarf Sons of the Desert and, shuffling into the end of the line, a small, hairy and furiously-scratching Son in a headdress that reached down to his paws. ‘ . . . grab her, become entranced by her beauty, and then throw her over your pommel.’ Dibbler’s voice intruded into his consciousness. Victor desperately re-ran the half-heard instructions past his mind. ‘My what?’ he said. ‘It’s part of your saddle,’ Ginger hissed. ‘Oh.’ ‘And then you ride into the night