Jean Beraud Le Boulevard St. Denis ParisJean Beraud Le Bal MabileJean Beraud Jeune femme traversant le boulevard
light turned the city into a network of silver lines and shadows.
Once upon a time the Tower of Art had been the centre of the city, but cities tend to migrate gently with time and Ankh-Morpork's centre The window was resolutely shut.
'But she always leaves it open,' Angua whined 'Must have shut it tonight,' said Gaspode. 'There's a lot of strange people about.'
'But she knows about strange people,' said Angua. 'Most of them live in her house!'was now several hundred yards away. The tower still dominated the city, though; its black shape reared against the evening sky, contriving to look blacker than mere shadows would suggest.Hardly anyone ever looked at the Tower of Art, because it was always there. It was just a thing. People hardly ever look at familiar things.There was a very faint clink of metal on stone. For a moment, anyone close to the tower and looking in exactly the right place might have fancied that a patch of even blacker darkness was slowly but inexorably moving towards the top.For a moment, the moonlight caught a slim metal tube, slung across the figure's back. Then it swung into shadow again as it climbed onwards.
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