Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
"So in talking of 'your husband' to the bar gentlemen you meant him, of course--not me!" ¡¡¡¡ "Of course.... Come, don't fuss about it." ¡¡¡¡ "I have nothing more to say!" replied Jude. "I have nothing at all to say about the--crime--you've confessed to!" ¡¡¡¡ "Crime! Pooh. They don't think much of such as that over there! Lots of 'em do it.... Well, if you take it like that I shall go back to him! He was very fond of me, and we lived honourable enough, and as respectable as any married couple in the colony! How did I know where you were?" ¡¡¡¡ "I won't go blaming you. I could say a good deal; but perhaps it would be misplaced. What do you wish me to do?" ¡¡¡¡ "Nothing. There was one thing more I wanted to tell you; but I fancy we've seen enough of one another for the present! I shall think over what you said about your circumstances, and let you know." ¡¡¡¡ Thus they parted. Jude watched her disappear in the direction of the hotel, and entered the railway station close by. Finding that it wanted three-quarters of an hour of the time at which he could get a train back to Alfredston, he strolled mechanically into the city as far as to the Fourways, where he stood as he had so often stood before, and surveyed Chief Street stretching ahead, with its college after college, in picturesqueness unrivalled except by such Continental vistas as the Street of Palaces in Genoa; the lines of the buildings being as distinct in the morning air as in an architectural drawing. But Jude was far from seeing or criticizing these things; they were hidden by an indescribable consciousness of Arabella's midnight contiguity, a sense of degradation at his revived experiences with her, of her appearance as she lay asleep at dawn, which set upon his motionless face a look as of one accurst. If he could only have felt resentment towards her he would have been less unhappy; but he pitied while he contemned her.

Hylas and the Nymphs

Hylas and the Nymphs
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
"So I had--two things--one in particular. But you wouldn't promise to keep it a secret. I'll tell you now if you promise? As an honest woman I wish you to know it.... It was what I began telling you in the night--about that gentleman who managed the Sydney hotel." Arabella spoke somewhat hurriedly for her. "You'll keep it close?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes--yes--I promise!" said Jude impatiently. "Of course I don't want to reveal your secrets." ¡¡¡¡ "Whenever I met him out for a walk, he used to say that he was much taken with my looks, and he kept pressing me to marry him. I never thought of coming back to England again; and being out there in Australia, with no home of my own after leaving my father, I at last agreed, and did." ¡¡¡¡ "What--marry him?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes." ¡¡¡¡ "Regularly--legally--in church?" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes. And lived with him till shortly before I left. It was stupid, I know; but I did! There, now I've told you. Don't round upon me! He talks of coming back to England, poor old chap. But if he does, he won't be likely to find me." ¡¡¡¡ Jude stood pale and fixed. ¡¡¡¡ "Why the devil didn't you tell me last, night!" he said. ¡¡¡¡ "Well--I didn't.... Won't you make it up with me, then?"

Madonna Litta

Madonna Litta
jesus christ on the cross
klimt painting the kiss
leonardo da vinci self portrait
¡¡¡¡ ON the morrow between nine and half-past they were journeying back to Christminster, the only two occupants of a compartment in a third-class railway-carriage. Having, like Jude, made rather a hasty toilet to catch the train, Arabella looked a little frowsy, and her face was very far from possessing the animation which had characterized it at the bar the night before. When they came out of the station she found that she still had half an hour to spare before she was due at the bar. They walked in silence a little way out of the town in the direction of Alfredston. Jude looked up the far highway. ¡¡¡¡ "Ah ... poor feeble me!" he murmured at last. ¡¡¡¡ "What?" said she. ¡¡¡¡ "This is the very road by which I came into Christminster years ago full of plans!" ¡¡¡¡ "Well, whatever the road is I think my time is nearly up, as I have to be in the bar by eleven o'clock. And as I said, I shan't ask for the day to go with you to see your aunt. So perhaps we had better part here. I'd sooner not walk up Chief Street with you, since we've come to no conclusion at all." ¡¡¡¡ "Very well. But you said when we were getting up this morning that you had something you wished to tell me before I left?"

Naiade oil painting

Naiade oil painting
madonna with the yarnwinder painting
Mother and Child
My Sweet Rose painting
¡¡¡¡ There was something particularly uncongenial in the idea of Arabella, who had no more sympathy than a tigress with his relations or him, coming to the bedside of his dying aunt, and meeting Sue. Yet he said, "Of course, if you'd like to, you can." ¡¡¡¡ "Well, that we'll consider.... Now, until we have come to some agreement it is awkward our being together here--where you are known, and I am getting known, though without any suspicion that I have anything to do with you. As we are going towards the station, suppose we take the nine-forty train to Aldbrickham? We shall be there in little more than half an hour, and nobody will know us for one night, and we shall be quite free to act as we choose till we have made up our minds whether we'll make anything public or not." ¡¡¡¡ "As you like." ¡¡¡¡ "Then wait till I get two or three things. This is my lodging. Sometimes when late I sleep at the hotel where I am engaged, so nobody will think anything of my staying out." ¡¡¡¡ She speedily returned, and they went on to the railway, and made the half-hour's journey to Aldbrickham, where they entered a third-rate inn near the station in time for a late supper.

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Boulevard des Capucines
Charity painting
¡¡¡¡ Jude turned and retraced his steps. Drawing again towards the station he started at hearing his name pronounced--less at the name than at the voice. To his great surprise no other than Sue stood like a vision before him-- her look bodeful and anxious as in a dream, her little mouth nervous, and her strained eyes speaking reproachful inquiry. ¡¡¡¡ "Oh, Jude--I am so glad--to meet you like this!" she said in quick, uneven accents not far from a sob. Then she flushed as she observed his thought that they had not met since her marriage. ¡¡¡¡ They looked away from each other to hide their emotion, took each other's hand without further speech, and went on together awhile, till she glanced at him with furtive solicitude. "I arrived at Alfredston station last night, as you asked me to, and there was nobody to meet me! But I reached Marygreen alone, and they told me Aunt was a trifle better. I sat up with her, and as you did not come all night I was frightened about you-- I thought that perhaps, when you found yourself back in the old city, you were upset at--at thinking I was--married, and not there as I used to be; and that you had nobody to speak to; so you had tried to drown your gloom--as you did at that former time when you were disappointed about entering as a student, and had forgotten your promise to me that you never would again. And this, I thought, was why you hadn't come to meet me!"

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Charity painting

Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
Yes," she said shortly, her face changing a little. "Though I didn't ask him to come. You are glad, of course, that he has been! But I shouldn't care if he didn't come any more!" ¡¡¡¡ It was very perplexing to her lover that she should be piqued at his honest acquiescence in his rival, if Jude's feelings of love were deprecated by her. He went on to something else. ¡¡¡¡ "This will blow over, dear Sue," he said. "The training-school authorities are not all the world. You can get to be a student in some other, no doubt." ¡¡¡¡ "I'll ask Mr. Phillotson," she said decisively. ¡¡¡¡ Sue's kind hostess now returned from church, and there was no more intimate conversation. Jude left in the afternoon, hopelessly unhappy. But he had seen her, and sat with her. Such intercourse as that would have to content him for the remainder of his life. The lesson of renunciation it was necessary and proper that he, as a parish priest, should learn. ¡¡¡¡ But the next morning when he awoke he felt rather vexed with her, and decided that she was rather unreasonable, not to say capricious. Then, in illustration of what he had begun to discern as one of her redeeming characteristics there came promptly a note, which she must have written almost immediately he had gone from her:

Charity painting

Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
Yes," she said shortly, her face changing a little. "Though I didn't ask him to come. You are glad, of course, that he has been! But I shouldn't care if he didn't come any more!" ¡¡¡¡ It was very perplexing to her lover that she should be piqued at his honest acquiescence in his rival, if Jude's feelings of love were deprecated by her. He went on to something else. ¡¡¡¡ "This will blow over, dear Sue," he said. "The training-school authorities are not all the world. You can get to be a student in some other, no doubt." ¡¡¡¡ "I'll ask Mr. Phillotson," she said decisively. ¡¡¡¡ Sue's kind hostess now returned from church, and there was no more intimate conversation. Jude left in the afternoon, hopelessly unhappy. But he had seen her, and sat with her. Such intercourse as that would have to content him for the remainder of his life. The lesson of renunciation it was necessary and proper that he, as a parish priest, should learn. ¡¡¡¡ But the next morning when he awoke he felt rather vexed with her, and decided that she was rather unreasonable, not to say capricious. Then, in illustration of what he had begun to discern as one of her redeeming characteristics there came promptly a note, which she must have written almost immediately he had gone from her:

A Lily Pond

A Lily Pond
Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder
American Day Dream
Biblis painting The speech seemed a little forced and unreal, and they regarded each other with a mutual distress. ¡¡¡¡ "I was so blind at first!" she went on. "I didn't see what you felt at all. Oh, you have been unkind to me--you have-- to look upon me as a sweetheart without saying a word, and leaving me to discover it myself! Your attitude to me has become known; and naturally they think we've been doing wrong! I'll never trust you again!" ¡¡¡¡ "Yes, Sue," he said simply; "I am to blame--more than you think. I was quite aware that you did not suspect till within the last meeting or two what I was feeling about you. I admit that our meeting as strangers prevented a sense of relationship, and that it was a sort of subterfuge to avail myself of it. But don't you think l deserve a little consideration for concealing my wrong, very wrong, sentiments, since I couldn't help having them?" ¡¡¡¡ She turned her eyes doubtfully towards him, and then looked away as if afraid she might forgive him. ¡¡¡¡ By every law of nature and sex a kiss was the only rejoinder that fitted the mood and the moment, under the suasion of which Sue's undemonstrative regard of him might not inconceivably have changed its temperature. Some men would have cast scruples to the winds, and ventured it, oblivious both of Sue's declaration of her neutral feelings, and of the pair of autographs in the vestry chest of Arabella's parish church. Jude did not. He had, in fact, come in part to tell his own fatal story. It was upon his lips; yet at the hour of this distress he could not disclose it. He preferred to dwell upon the recognized barriers between them.

klimt painting the kiss

klimt painting the kiss
leonardo da vinci self portrait
Madonna Litta
madonna with the yarnwinder painting
¡¡¡¡ He presently took from a drawer a carefully tied bundle of letters, few, very few, as correspondence counts nowadays. Each was in its envelope just as it had arrived, and the handwriting was of the same womanly character as the historic notes. He unfolded them one by one and read them musingly. At first sight there seemed in these small documents to be absolutely nothing to muse over. They were straightforward, frank letters, signed "Sue B--"; just such ones as would be written during short absences, with no other thought than their speedy destruction, and chiefly concerning books in reading and other experiences of a training school, forgotten doubtless by the writer with the passing of the day of their inditing. In one of them--quite a recent note--the young woman said that she had received his considerate letter, and that it was honourable and generous of him to say he would not come to see her oftener than she desired (the school being such an awkward place for callers, and because of her strong wish that her engagement to him should not be known, which it would infallibly be if he visited her often). Over these phrases the school-master pored. What precise shade of satisfaction was to be gathered from a woman's gratitude that the man who loved her had not been often to see her? The problem occupied him, distracted him.

girl with a pearl earring vermeer

girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
About the time that Jude was removing from Marygreen to Melchester, and entering on adventures at the latter place with Sue, the schoolmaster was settling down in the new school-house at Shaston. All the furniture being fixed, the books shelved, and the nails driven, he had begun to sit in his parlour during the dark winter nights and re-attempt some of his old studies-- one branch of which had included Roman-Britannic antiquities-- an unremunerative labour for a national school-master but a subject, that, after his abandonment of the university scheme, had interested him as being a comparatively unworked mine; practicable to those who, like himself, had lived in lonely spots where these remains were abundant, and were seen to compel inferences in startling contrast to accepted views on the civilization of that time. ¡¡¡¡ A resumption of this investigation was the outward and apparent hobby of Phillotson at present--his ostensible reason for going alone into fields where causeways, dykes, and tumuli abounded, or shutting himself up in his house with a few urns, tiles, and mosaics he had collected, instead of calling round upon his new neighbours, who for their part had showed themselves willing enough to be friendly with him. But it was not the real, or the whole, reason, after all. Thus on a particular evening in the month, when it had grown quite late-- to near midnight, indeed--and the light of his lamp, shining from his window at a salient angle of the hill-top town over infinite miles of valley westward, announced as by words a place and person given over to study, he was not exactly studying.

female nude reclining

female nude reclining
flaming june painting
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
Forgive me for my petulance yesterday! I was horrid to you; I know it, and I feel perfectly miserable at my horridness. It was so dear of you not to be angry! Jude please still keep me as your friend and associate, with all my faults. I'll try not to he like it again. ¡¡¡¡ I am coming to Melchester on Saturday, to get my things away from the T.S., &c. I could walk with you for half an hour, if you would like?-- Your repentant SUE. ¡¡¡¡ Jude forgave her straightway, and asked her to call for him at the cathedral works when she came. ¡¡¡¡ ¡¡¡¡ VI ¡¡¡¡ MEANWHILE a middle-aged man was dreaming a dream of great beauty concerning the writer of the above letter. He was Richard Phillotson, who had recently removed from the mixed village school at Lumsdon near Christminster, to undertake a large boys' school in his native town of Shaston, which stood on a hill sixty miles to the south-west as the crow flies. ¡¡¡¡ A glance at the place and its accessories was almost enough to reveal that the schoolmaster's plans and dreams so long indulged in had been abandoned for some new dream with which neither the Church nor literature had much in common. Essentially an unpractical man, he was now bent on making and saving money for a practical purpose-- that of keeping a wife, who, if she chose, might conduct one of the girls' schools adjoining his own; for which purpose he had advised her to go into training, since she would not marry him offhand.

Monday, October 29, 2007

the night watch by rembrandt

the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
Meanwhile the scholars and teachers moved homewards, and the next day, on looking on the blackboard in Sue's class, Phillotson was surprised to find upon it, skilfully drawn in chalk, a perspective view of Jerusalem, with every building shown in its place. ¡¡¡¡ "I thought you took no interest in the model, and hardly looked at it?" he said. ¡¡¡¡ "I hardly did," said she, "but I remembered that much of it." ¡¡¡¡ "It is more than I had remembered myself." ¡¡¡¡ Her Majesty's school-inspector was at that time paying "surprise-visits" in this neighbourhood to test the teaching unawares; and two days later, in the middle of the morning lessons, the latch of the door was softly lifted, and in walked my gentleman, the king of terrors-- to pupil-teachers.

The Broken Pitcher

The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
The Lady of Shalott
"That's a good Jude--I know you believe in me!" She impulsively seized his hand, and leaving a reproachful look on the schoolmaster turned away to Jude, her voice revealing a tremor which she herself felt to be absurdly uncalled for by sarcasm so gentle. She had not the least conception how the hearts of the twain went out to her at this momentary revelation of feeling, and what a complication she was building up thereby in the futures of both. ¡¡¡¡ The model wore too much of an educational aspect for the children not to tire of it soon, and a little later in the afternoon they were all marched back to Lumsdon, Jude returning to his work. He watched the juvenile flock in their clean frocks and pinafores, filing down the street towards the country beside Phillotson and Sue, and a sad, dissatisfied sense of being out of the scheme of the latters' lives had possession of him. Phillotson had invited him to walk out and see them on Friday evening, when there would be no lessons to give to Sue, and Jude had eagerly promised to avail himself of the opportunity.

Spring Breeze

Spring Breeze
Sweet Nothings
The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
¡¡¡¡ "Ah--I didn't see him!" she cried in her quick, light voice. "Jude--how seriously you are going into it!" ¡¡¡¡ Jude started up from his reverie, and saw her. "Oh--Sue!" he said, with a glad flush of embarrassment. "These are your school-children, of course! I saw that schools were admitted in the afternoons, and thought you might come; but I got so deeply interested that I didn't remember where I was. How it carries one back, doesn't it! I could examine it for hours, but I have only a few minutes, unfortunately; for I am in the middle of a job out here." ¡¡¡¡ "Your cousin is so terribly clever that she criticizes it unmercifully," said Phillotson, with good-humoured satire. "She is quite sceptical as to its correctness." ¡¡¡¡ "No, Mr. Phillotson, I am not--altogether! I hate to be what is called a clever girl--there are too many of that sort now!" answered Sue sensitively. "I only meant--I don't know what I meant-- except that it was what you don't understand!" ¡¡¡¡ "I know your meaning," said Jude ardently (although he did not). "And I think you are quite right."

precious time

precious time
Red Hat Girl
Red Nude painting
Regatta At Argenteuil
Rembrandt Biblical Scene
¡¡¡¡ For a few weeks their work had gone on with a monotony which in itself was a delight to him. Then it happened that the children were to be taken to Christminster to see an itinerant exhibition, in the shape of a model of Jerusalem, to which schools were admitted at a penny a head in the interests of education. They marched along the road two and two, she beside her class with her simple cotton sunshade, her little thumb cocked up against its stem; and Phillotson behind in his long dangling coat, handling his walking-stick genteelly, in the musing mood which had come over him since her arrival. The afternoon was one of sun and dust, and when they entered the exhibition room few people were present but themselves. The model of the ancient city stood in the middle of the apartment, and the proprietor, with a fine religious philanthropy written on his features, walked round it with a pointer in his hand, showing the young people the various quarters and places known to them by name from reading their Bibles, Mount Moriah, the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the City of Zion, the walls and the gates, outside one of which there was a large mound like a tumulus, and on the mound a little white cross. The spot, he said, was Calvary.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

madonna with the yarnwinder painting

madonna with the yarnwinder painting
Mother and Child
My Sweet Rose painting
Naiade oil painting ¡¡¡¡ During the interval of preparation for this venture, since his wife and furniture's uncompromising disappearance into space, he had read and learnt almost all that could be read and learnt by one in his position, of the worthies who had spent their youth within these reverend walls, and whose souls had haunted them in their maturer age. Some of them, by the accidents of his reading, loomed out in his fancy disproportionately large by comparison with the rest. The brushings of the wind against the angles, buttresses, and door-jambs were as the passing of these only other inhabitants, the tappings of each ivy leaf on its neighbour were as the mutterings of their mournful souls, the shadows as their thin shapes in nervous movement, making him comrades in his solitude. In the gloom it was as if he ran against them without feeling their bodily frames. ¡¡¡¡ The streets were now deserted, but on account of these things he could not go in. There were poets abroad, of early date and of late, from the friend and eulogist of Shakespeare down to him who has recently passed into silence, and that musical one of the tribe who is still among us. Speculative philosophers drew along, not always with wrinkled foreheads and hoary hair as in framed portraits, but pink-faced, slim, and active as in youth; modern divines sheeted in their surplices, among whom the most real to Jude Fawley were the founders of the religious school called Tractarian; the well-known three, the enthusiast, the poet, and the formularist, the echoes of whose teachings had influenced him even in his obscure home. A start of aversion appeared in his fancy to move them at sight of those other sons of the place, the form in the full-bottomed wig, statesman rake, reasoner and sceptic; the smoothly shaven historian so ironically civil to Christianity; with others of the same incredulous temper, who knew each quad as well as the faithful, and took equal freedom in haunting its cloisters.

jesus christ on the cross

jesus christ on the cross
klimt painting the kiss
leonardo da vinci self portrait
Madonna Litta
¡¡¡¡ A bell began clanging, and he listened till a hundred-and-one strokes had sounded. He must have made a mis-take, he thought: it was meant for a hundred. ¡¡¡¡ When the gates were shut, and he could no longer get into the quadrangles, he rambled under the walls and doorways, feeling with his fingers the contours of their mouldings and carving. The minutes passed, fewer and fewer people were visible, and still he serpentined among the shadows, for had he not imagined these scenes through ten bygone years, and what mattered a night's rest for once? High against the black sky the flash of a lamp would show crocketed pinnacles and indented battlements. Down obscure alleys, apparently never trodden now by the foot of man, and whose very existence seemed to be forgotten, there would jut into the path porticoes, oriels, doorways of enriched and florid middle-age design, their extinct air being accentuated by the rottenness of the stones. It seemed impossible that modern thought could house itself in such decrepit and superseded chambers. ¡¡¡¡ Knowing not a human being here, Jude began to be impressed with the isolation of his own personality, as with a self-spectre, the sensation being that of one who walked but could not make himself seen or heard. He drew his breath pensively, and, seeming thus almost his own ghost, gave his thoughts to the other ghostly presences with which the nooks were haunted.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may
girl with a pearl earring vermeer
Gustav Klimt Kiss painting
Head of Christ
Hylas and the Nymphs
¡¡¡¡ He was a species of Dick Whittington whose spirit was touched to finer issues than a mere material gain. He went along the outlying streets with the cautious tread of an explorer. He saw nothing of the real city in the suburbs on this side. His first want being a lodging he scrutinized carefully such localities as seemed to offer on inexpensive terms the modest type of accommodation he demanded; and after inquiry took a room in a suburb nicknamed "Beersheba," though he did not know this at the time. Here he installed himself, and having had some tea sallied forth. ¡¡¡¡ It was a windy, whispering, moonless night. To guide himself he opened under a lamp a map he had brought. The breeze ruffled and fluttered it, but he could see enough to decide on the direction he should take to reach the heart of the place. ¡¡¡¡ After many turnings he came up to the first ancient mediaeval pile that he had encountered. It was a college, as he could see by the gateway. He entered it, walked round, and penetrated to dark corners which no lamplight reached. Close to this college was another; and a little further on another; and then he began to be encircled as it were with the breath and sentiment of the venerable city. When he passed objects out of harmony with its general expression he allowed his eyes to slip over them as if he did not see them.

Dance Me to the End of Love

Dance Me to the End of Love
Evening Mood painting
female nude reclining
flaming june painting
His aunt would not give him the photograph. But it haunted him; and ultimately formed a quickening ingredient in his latent intent of following his friend the school master thither. ¡¡¡¡ He now paused at the top of a crooked and gentle declivity, and obtained his first near view of the city. Grey-stoned and dun-roofed, it stood within hail of the Wessex border, and almost with the tip of one small toe within it, at the northernmost point of the crinkled line along which the leisurely Thames strokes the fields of that ancient kingdom. The buildings now lay quiet in the sunset, a vane here and there on their many spires and domes giving sparkle to a picture of sober secondary and tertiary hues. ¡¡¡¡ Reaching the bottom he moved along the level way between pollard willows growing indistinct in the twilight, and soon confronted the outmost lamps of the town--some of those lamps which had sent into the sky the gleam and glory that caught his strained gaze in his days of dreaming, so many years ago. They winked their yellow eyes at him dubiously, and as if, though they had been awaiting him all these years in disappointment at his tarrying, they did not much want him now.

William Bouguereau Biblis

Biblis painting
William Bouguereau Biblis
Charity painting
Christ In The Storm On The Sea Of Galilee
¡¡¡¡ Jude would now have been described as a young man with a forcible, meditative, and earnest rather than handsome cast of countenance. He was of dark complexion, with dark harmonizing eyes, and he wore a closely trimmed black beard of more advanced growth than is usual at his age; this, with his great mass of black curly hair, was some trouble to him in combing and washing out the stone-dust that settled on it in the pursuit of his trade. His capabilities in the latter, having been acquired in the country, were of an all-round sort, including monumental stone-cutting, gothic free-stone work for the restoration of churches, and carving of a general kind. In London he would probably have become specialized and have made himself a "moulding mason," a "foliage sculptor"-- perhaps a "statuary." ¡¡¡¡ He had that afternoon driven in a cart from Alfredston to the village nearest the city in this direction, and was now walking the remaining four miles rather from choice than from necessity, having always fancied himself arriving thus. ¡¡¡¡ The ultimate impulse to come had had a curious origin--one more nearly related to the emotional side of him than to the intellectual, as is often the case with young men. One day while in lodgings at Alfredston he had gone to Marygreen to see his old aunt, and had observed between the brass candlesticks on her mantlepiece the photograph of a pretty girlish face, in a broad hat with radiating folds under the brim like the rays of a halo. He had asked who she was. His grand-aunt had gruffly replied that she was his cousin Sue Bridehead, of the inimical branch of the family; and on further questioning the old woman had replied that the girl lived in Christminster, though she did not know where, or what she was doing.

Friday, October 26, 2007

The Painter's Honeymoon

The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
The Sacrifice of Abraham painting
The Three Ages of Woman
When Miss Marple uttered the word “gentlemen" she always gave it its full Victorian flavour - an echo from an era actually before her own time. You were conscious at once of dashing full-blooded (and probably whiskered) males, sometimes wicked, but always gallant.
"You're such a handsome girl," pursued Miss Marple, appraising Lucy. "I expect they pay you a good deal of attention, don't they?"
Lucy flushed slightly. Scrappy remembrances passed across her mind. Cedric, leaning against the pigsty wall. Bryan sitting disconsolately on the kitchen table. Alfred's fingers touching hers as he helped her collect the coffee cups.
"Gentlemen," said Miss Marple, in the tone of one speaking of some alien and dangerous species, “are all very much alike in some ways - even if they are quite old…."
"Darling," cried Lucy. "A hundred years ago you would certainly have been burned as a witch!"
And she told her story of old Mr. Crackenthorpe's conditional proposal of marriage.

The Lady of Shalott

The Lady of Shalott
the night watch by rembrandt
the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
They're all furious with Emma for going to you about it - and with Dr. Quimper who, it seemed, encouraged her to do so. Harold and Alfred think it was a try on and not genuine. Emma isn't sure. Cedric thinks it was phoney, too, but he doesn't take it as seriously as the other two. Bryan, on the other hand, seems quite sure that it's genuine."
"Why, I wonder?"
"Well, Bryan's rather like that. Just accepts things at their face value. He thinks it was Edmund's wife - or rather widow – and that she had suddenly to go back to France, but that they'll hear from her again sometimes. The fact that she hasn't written, or anything, up to now, seems to him to be quite natural because he never writes letters himself. Bryan's rather sweet. Just like a dog that wants to be taken for a walk."
"And do you take him for a walk, dear?" asked Miss Marple. "To the pigsties, perhaps?"
Lucy shot a keen glance at her.
"So many gentlemen in the house, coming and going," mused Miss Marple.

The Abduction of Psyche

The Abduction of Psyche
The British Are Coming
The Broken Pitcher
The Jewel Casket
The Kitchen Maid
"I shook them up a little. Asked them to account for their movements on Friday, 20th December."
"And could they?"
"Harold could. Alfred couldn't - or wouldn't."
"I think alibis must be terribly difficult," said Lucy. "Times and places and dates. They must be hard to check up on, too."
"It takes time and patience – but we manage." He glanced at his watch. "I'll be coming along to Rutherford Hall presently to have a word with Cedric, but I want to get hold of Dr. Quimper first."
"You'll be just about right. He has his surgery at six and he's usually finished about half past. I must get back and deal with dinner."
"I'd like your opinion on one thing, Miss Eyelesbarrow. What's the family view about this Martine business - amongst themselves?"
Lucy replied promptly.

Rembrandt Biblical Scene

Rembrandt Biblical Scene
seated nude
Spring Breeze
Sweet Nothings
"And leave Rutherford Hall? Never! I'm the complete sleuth by now. Almost as bad as the boys. They spend their entire time looking for clues. They looked all through the dustbins yesterday. Most unsavoury - and they hadn't really the faintest idea what they were looking for. If they come to you in triumph, Inspector Craddock, bearing a torn scrap of paper with Martine - if you value your life keep away from the Long Barn! On it, you'll know that I've taken pity on them and concealed it in the pigsty!"
"Why the pigsty, dear?" asked Miss Marple with interest. "Do they keep pigs?"
"Oh, no, not nowadays. It's just - I go there sometimes."
For some reason Lucy blushed. Miss Marple looked at her with increased interest.
"Who's at the house now?" asked Craddock.
"Cedric's there, and Bryan's down for the weekend. Harold and Alfred are coming down tomorrow. They rang up this morning. I somehow got the impression that you had been putting the cat among the pigeons, Inspector Craddock."
Craddock smiled.

precious time

precious time
Red Hat Girl
Red Nude painting
Regatta At Argenteuil "No," admitted Lucy. "I never thought of anything of that kind. They both seemed to me –"
"So old?" said Miss Marple smiling a little. "But Dr. Quimper isn't much over forty, I should say, though he's going grey on the temples, and it's obvious that he's longing for some kind of home life; and Emma Crackenthorpe is under forty – not too old to marry and have a family. The doctor's wife died quite young having a baby, so I have heard."
"I believe she did. Emma said something about it one day."
"He must be lonely," said Miss Marple. "A busy hardworking doctor needs a wife – someone sympathetic - not too young."
"Listen, darling," said Lucy. "Are we investigating crime, or are we match-making?"
Miss Marple twinkled.
"I'm afraid I am rather romantic. Because I am an old maid, perhaps. You know, dear Lucy, that, as far as I am concerned, you have fulfilled your contract. If you really want a holiday abroad before taking up your next engagement, you would have time still for a short trip."

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
She stopped.
"You wanted it to be true?" said Craddock gently.
She looked at him gratefully.
"Yes, I wanted it to be true. I would be so glad if Edmund had left a son."
Craddock nodded.
"As you say, the letter, on the face of it, sounds genuine enough. What is surprising is the sequel; Martine Crackenthorpe's abrupt departure for Paris and the fact that you have never heard from her since. You had replied kindly to her, were prepared to welcome her.
Abstract Painting
Why, even if she had to return to France, did she not write again? That is, presuming her to be the genuine article. If she were an impostor, of course, it's easier to explain. I though perhaps that you might have consulted Mr. Wimborne, and that he might have instituted inquiries which alarmed the woman. That, you tell me, is not so. But it's still possible that one or other of your brothers may have done something of the kind. It's possible that this Martine may have had a background that would not stand investigation. She may have assumed that she would be dealing only with Edmund's affectionate sister, not with hardheaded suspicious business men. She may have hoped to get sums of money out of you for the child (hardly a child now - a boy presumably of fifteen or sixteen) without many questions being asked.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
looked at her sharply.
"What do you yourself think about it?"
"I don't know what to think."
"What were your reactions at the time? Did you think the letter was genuine - or did you agree with your father and brothers? What about your brother-in-law, by the way, what did he think?"
"Oh, Bryan thought that the letter was genuine."
"And you?"
"I - wasn't sure."
"And what were your feelings about it – supposing that this girl really was your brother Edmund's widow?"
Emma's face softened.
Rembrandt Painting
"I was very fond of Edmund. He was my favourite brother. The letter seemed to me exactly the sort of letter that a girl like Martine would write under the circumstances. The course of events she described was entirely natural. I assumed that by the time the war ended she had either married again or was with some man who was protecting her and the child. Then perhaps, this man had died, or left her, and it then seemed right to her to apply to Edmund's family – as he himself had wanted her to do. The letter seemed genuine and natural to me - but, of course, Harold pointed out that if it was written by an impostor, it would be written by some woman who had known Martine and who was in possession of all the facts, and so could write a thoroughly plausible letter. I had to admit the justice of that - but all the same…"
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
"I had to tell my father, of course. He got very worked up," she smiled faintly. "He was convinced it was a put-up thing to get money out of us. My father gets very excited about money. He believes, or pretends to believe, that he is a very poor man, and that he must save every penny he can. I believe elderly people do get obsessions of that kind sometimes. It's not true, of course, he has a very large income and doesn't actually spend a quarter of it – or used not to until these days of high income tax. Certainly he has a large amount of savings put by." She paused and then went on. "I told my other two brothers also. Alfred seemed to consider it rather a joke
The Singing Butler
though he, too, thought it was almost certainly an imposture. Cedric just wasn't interested - he's inclined to be self-centred. Our idea was that the family would receive Martine, and that our lawyer, Mr. Wimborne, should also be asked to be present."
"What did Mr. Wimborne think about the matter?"
"We hadn't got as far as discussing the matter with him. We were on the point of doing so when Martine's telegram arrived."
"You have taken no further steps?"
"Yes. I wrote to the address in London with Please forward on the envelope, but I have had no reply of any kind."
"Rather a curious business…. Hm…"The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
"I had to tell my father, of course. He got very worked up," she smiled faintly. "He was convinced it was a put-up thing to get money out of us. My father gets very excited about money. He believes, or pretends to believe, that he is a very poor man, and that he must save every penny he can. I believe elderly people do get obsessions of that kind sometimes. It's not true, of course, he has a very large income and doesn't actually spend a quarter of it – or used not to until these days of high income tax. Certainly he has a large amount of savings put by." She paused and then went on. "I told my other two brothers also. Alfred seemed to consider it rather a joke
The Singing Butler
though he, too, thought it was almost certainly an imposture. Cedric just wasn't interested - he's inclined to be self-centred. Our idea was that the family would receive Martine, and that our lawyer, Mr. Wimborne, should also be asked to be present."
"What did Mr. Wimborne think about the matter?"
"We hadn't got as far as discussing the matter with him. We were on the point of doing so when Martine's telegram arrived."
"You have taken no further steps?"
"Yes. I wrote to the address in London with Please forward on the envelope, but I have had no reply of any kind."
"Rather a curious business…. Hm…"The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
And you believe that this woman whose body was found in the sarcophagus might be Martine?"
"No, of course I don't. But when you said she was probably a foreigner - well, I couldn't help wondering… if perhaps…"
Her voice died away.
Craddock spoke quickly and reassuringly.
Jack Vettriano Painting
"You did quite right to tell me about this. We’ll look into it. I should say there is probably little doubt that the woman who wrote to you actually did go back to France and is there now alive and well. On the other hand, there is a certain coincidence of dates, as you yourself have been clever enough to realise. As you heard at the inquest, the woman's death according to the police surgeon's evidence must have occurred about three to four weeks ago. Now don't worry, Miss Crackenthorpe, just leave it to us. He added casually, You consulted Mr. Harold Crackenthorpe. What about your father and your other brothers?"
Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
Craddock was silent for a moment or two. He reread the letter carefully before handing it back.
"What did you do on receipt of this letter, Miss Crackenthorpe?"
"My brother-in-law, Bryan Eastley, happened to be staying with me at the time and I talked to him about it. Then I rang up my brother Harold in London and consulted him about it. Harold was rather sceptical about the whole thing and advised extreme caution. We must, he said, go carefully into this woman's credentials."
Emma paused and then went on
Mary Cassatt painting
"That, of course, was only common sense and I quite agreed. But if this girl - woman – was really the Martine about whom Edmund had written to me, I felt that we must make her welcome. I wrote to the address she gave in her letter inviting her to come down to Rutherford Hall and meet us. A few days later I received a telegram from London: Very sorry forced to return to France unexpectedly. Martine."
"All this took place - when?"
Emma frowned.
"It was shortly before Christmas. I know, because I wanted to suggest her spending Christmas with us - but my father would not hear it - so I suggested she should come down the week-end after Christmas while the family would still be there. I think the wire saying she was returning to France came actually a few days before Christmas."
Mary Cassatt painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
Inspector Craddock nodded. Emma went on.
"Imagine my surprise to receive a letter just about a month ago, signed Martine Crackenthorpe."
"You have it?"
Emma took it from her bag and handed it to him. Craddock read it with interest. It was written in a slanting French hand – an educated hand.
 
Dear Mademoiselle,
Edward Hopper Painting
I hope it will not be a shock to you to get this letter. I do not even know if your brother Edmund told you that we were married. He said he was going to do so. He was killed only a few days after our marriage and at the same time the Germans occupied our village. After the war ended, I decided that I would not write to you or approach you, though Edmund had told me to do so. But by then I had made a new life for myself, and it was not necessary. But now things have changed. For my son's sake I write this letter. He's your brother's son, you see, and I - I can no longer give him the advantages he ought t have. I am coming to England early next week. Will you let me know if I can come and see you? My address for letter is 126 Elvers Crescent, N.10. I hope again this will not be the great shock to you.
I remain with assurance of my excellent sentiments.
Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
She opened her handbag and took out a worn and faded letter. She read from it:
"I hope this won't be a shock to you, Emmie, but I'm getting married – to a French girl. It's all been very sudden – but I know you'll be fond of Martine – and look after her if anything happens to me. Will write you all the details in my next - by which time I shall be a married man. Break it gently to the old man, won't you? He’ll probably go up in smoke."
Inspector Craddock held out a hand. Emma hesitated, then put the letter into it. She went on, speaking rapidly.
Van Gogh Sunflower
Two days after receiving this letter, we had a telegram saying Edmund was missing, believed killed. Later he was definitely reported killed. It was just before Dunkirk - and a time of great confusion. There was no Army record, as far as I could find out, of his having been married - but as I say, it was a confused time. I never heard anything from the girl. I tried, after the war, to make some inquiries, but I only knew her Christian name and that part of France had been occupied by the Germans and it was difficult to find out anything, without knowing the girl's surname and more about her. In the end I assumed that the marriage had never taken place and that the girl had probably married someone else before the end of the war, or might possibly herself have been killed."
Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
He rose to his feet as she was shown in, shook hands, settled her in a chair and offered her a cigarette which she refused. Then there was a momentary pause. She was trying, he decided, to find just the words she wanted. He leaned forward.
"You have come to tell me something, Miss Crackenthorpe? Can I help you? You've been worried about something, haven't you? Some little thing, perhaps, that you feel probably has nothing to do with the case, but on the other hand, just might be related to it. You've come here to tell me about it, haven't you? It's to do, perhaps, with the identity of the dead woman. You think you know who she was?"
Van Gogh Painting
No, no, not quite that. I think really it's most unlikely. But –"
"But there is some possibility that worries you. You'd better tell me about it - because we may be able to set your mind at rest."
Emma took a moment or two before speaking. Then she said:
"You have seen three of my brothers. I had another brother, Edmund, who was killed in the war. Shortly before he was killed, he wrote to me from France."
Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
"But decidedly it is an idea," said the voice at the other end, from the Prefecture in Paris. "Already I have set inquiries in motion in those circles. My agent reports that he has tow or three promising lines of inquiry. Unless there is some family life – or a lover, these women drop out of circulation very easily and no one troubles about them. They have gone on tour, or there is some new man – it is no one's business to ask. It is a pity that the photograph you sent me is so difficult for anyone to recognise. Strangulation, it does not improve the appearance. Still, that cannot be helped. I go now to study the latest reports of my agents on this matter. There will be, perhaps, something. Au revoir, mon cher."
As Craddock reiterated the farewell politely
Henri Matisse Painting
Miss Emma Crackenthorpe.
To see Detective-Inspector Craddock.
Rutherford Hall case.
 
He replaced the receiver and said to the police constable:
"Bring Miss Crackenthorpe up."
As he waited, he leaned back in his chair, thinking.
So he had not been mistaken – there was something that Emma Crackenthorpe knew – not much, perhaps, but something. And she had decided to tell him.
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
"Miss Eyelesbarrow…."
Emma's voice came faintly through the closed study. Lucy seized gratefully at the opportunity.
"Miss Crackenthorpe's calling me. I must go. Thank you so much for all you have shown me…."
"Don't forget… our secret…"
"I won't forget," said Lucy, and hurried out into the hall not quite certain as to whether she had or had not just received a conditional proposal of marriage.
Marc Chagall Painting
Dermot Craddock sat at his desk in his room at New Scotland Yard. He was slumped sideways in an easy attitude, and was talking into the telephone receiver which he held with one elbow propped up on the table. He was speaking in French, a language in which he was tolerably proficient.
"It was only an idea, you understand," he said.
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
Because I don't want you to think I'm a played-out sick old man. Lots of life in the old dog yet. My wife's been dead a long time. Always objecting to everything, she was. Didn't like the names I gave the children - good Saxon names - no interest in that family tree. I never paid any attention to what she said, though – and she was a poor-spirited creature - always gave in. now you're a spirited filly – a very nice filly indeed. I'll give you some advice. Don't throw yourself away on a young man. Young men are fools! You want to take care of your future. You wait…." His fingers pressed into Lucy's arm.
The Birth of Venus
man. Young men are fools! You want to take care of your future. You wait…." His fingers pressed into Lucy's arm. He leaned to her ear. "I don't say more than that. Wait. Those silly fools think I'm going to die soon. I'm not. Shouldn't be surprised if I outlived the lot of them. And then we'll see! Oh, yes, then we'll see. Harold's got no children. Cedric and Alfred aren't married. Emma – Emma will never marry now. She's a bit sweet to Quimper - but Quimper will never think of marrying Emma. There's Alexander, of course. Yes, there's Alexander…. But, you know, I'm fond of Alexander…. Yes, that's awkward. I'm fond of Alexander."
He paused for a moment, frowning, then said:
"Well, girl, what about it? What about it, eh?"
The Birth of Venus

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
"Curious, aren't you? All women are curious." He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door of the lower cupboard. From this he took out a surprisingly new-looking cash box. This, again, he unlocked.
Take a look here, my dear. Know what these are?
He lifted out a small paper-wrapped cylinder and pulled away the paper from one end. Gold coins trickled out into his palm
Bouguereau William
"Look at these, young lady. Look at ’em, touch 'em. Know what they are? Bet you don't! You're too young. Sovereigns – that's what they are. Good golden sovereigns. What we use before all these dirty bits of paper came into fashion. Worth a lot more than silly pieces of paper. Collected them a long time back. I've got other things in this box, too. Lots of things put away in here. All ready for the future. Emma doesn't know - nobody knows. It's our secret, see, girl? D’you know why I'm telling you and showing you?"
"Why?"
Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
Descended from Kings," said Mr. Crackenthorpe. "My mother's family tree, that is - not my father’s. He was a vulgarian! Common old man! Didn't like me! I was a cut above him always. Took after my mother's side. Had a natural feeling for art and classical sculpture - he couldn't see anything in it - silly old fool. Don't remember my mother – died when I was two. Last of her family. They were sold up and she married my father. But you look here - Edward the Confessor – Ethelred the Unready - whole lot of them. And that was before the Normans came. Before the Normans - that's something, isn't it?"
"It is indeed."
Gustav Klimt Painting
Now I'll show you something else." He guided her across the room to an enormous piece of dark oak furniture. Lucy was rather uneasily conscious of the strength of the fingers clutching her arm. There certainly seemed nothing feeble about old Mr. Crackenthorpe today. "See this? Came out of Lushington – that was my mother's people's place. Elizabethan, this is. Takes four men to move it. You don't know what I keep inside it, do you? Like me show you?"
"Do show me," said Lucy politely.
Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Gustav Klimt The Kiss
"Eating me out of house and home…. That's all they do when they come down here! Eat. They don't offer to pay for what they eat, either. Leeches! All waiting for me to die. Well, I'm not going to die just yet - I'm not going to die to please them. I'm a lot stronger than even Emma knows."
"I'm sure you are."
"I'm not so old, either. She makes out I'm an old man, treats me as an old man. You don't think I'm old, do you?"
"Of course not," said Lucy.
"Sensible girl. Take a look at this."
Gustav Klimt The Kiss
He indicated a large faded chart which hung on the wall. It was, Lucy saw, genealogical tree; some of it done so finely that one would have to have a magnifying glass to read the names. The remote forebears, however, were written in large proud capitals with crowns over the names.
Gustav Klimt The Kiss

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
Lucy looked round her. They were in a small room evidently designed to be used as a study, but equally evidently not used as such for a very long time. There were piles of dusty papers on the desk and cobwebs festooned from the corners of the ceiling. The air smelt damp and musty.
"Do you want me to clean this room?" she asked.
Old Mr. Crackenthorpe shook his head fiercely.
"No, you don't! I keep this room locked up. Emma would like to fiddle about in here, but I don't let her. It's my room. See these stones? They're geological specimens."
Modern Art Painting
Lucy looked at a collection of twelve or fourteen lumps of rock, some polished and some rough.
"Lovely," she said kindly. "Most interesting."
"You're quite right. They are interesting. You're an intelligent girl. I don't show them to everybody. I'll show you some more things."
"It's very kind of you, but I ought really to get on with what I was doing. With six people in the house –"
Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
"Hm." Dr. Quimper pursed up his lips. He was silent for a moment or two, deep in thought. Then he said, almost unwillingly, "It's much simpler, of course, if you say nothing. I can understand what your brothers feel about it. All the same –"
"Yes?"
Quimper looked at her. His eyes had an affectionate twinkle in them.
"I'd go ahead and tell 'em," he said. "You'll go on worrying if you don't. I know you."
Emma flushed a little.
"Perhaps I'm foolish."
Art Painting
Girl! You, girl! Come in here."
Lucy turned her head, surprised. Old Mr. Crackenthorpe was beckoning to her fiercely from just inside a door.
"You want me, Mr. Crackenthorpe?"
"Don't talk so much. Come in here."
Lucy obeyed the imperative finger. Old Mr. Crackenthorpe took hold of her arm and pulled her inside the door and shut it.
"Want to show you something," he said.
Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
"Yes. Almost immediately after I got that letter, he was killed. We never heard anything of or about the girl. All we knew, actually, was her Christian name. We always expected her to write or to turn up, but she didn't. We never heard anything - until about a month ago, just before Christmas."
"I remember. You got a letter, didn't you?"
"Yes. Saying she was in England and would like to come and see us. It was all arranged and then, at the last minute, she sent a wire that she had to return unexpectedly to France."
Famous painting
"Well?"
"The police think that this woman who was killed – was French."
"They do, do they? She looked more of an English type to me, but one can't really judge. What's worrying you then, is that just possibly the dead woman might be your brother's girl?"
"Yes."
"I think it's most unlikely," said Dr. Quimper, adding: “But all the same, I understand what you feel."
"I'm wondering if I ought not to tell the police about - about it all. Cedric and the others say it's quite unnecessary. What do you think?"
Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
Well, Emma," he said. "Your father's in splendid shape. Murder suits him. It's given him an interest in life. I must recommend it for more of my patients."
Emma smiled mechanically. Dr. Quimper was always quick to notice reactions.
"Anything particular the matter?" he asked.
Emma looked up at him. She had come to rely a lot on the kindness and sympathy of the doctor. He had become a friend on whom to lean, not only a medical attendant. His calculated brusqueness did not deceive her – she knew the kindness that lay behind it.
Famous artist painting
I am worried, yes," she admitted.
"Care to tell me? Don't if you don't want to."
"I'd like to tell you. Some of it you know already. The point is I don't know what to do."
"I should say your judgment was usually most reliable. What's the trouble?"
"You remember - or perhaps you don't - what I once told you about my brother - the one who was killed in the war?"
"You mean about his having married – or wanting to marry - a French girl? Something of that kind?"
Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
"You don't think, perhaps, that I ought to tell Inspector Bacon - or the other one?"
"Tell him what?"
"Well - about Martine. About her letter."
"Now don't you go complicating things, sis, by bringing up a lot of irrelevant stuff that has nothing to do with all this. I was never very convinced about that letter from Martine, anyway."
"I was."
"You've always been good at believing impossible things before breakfast, old girl. My advice to you is, sit tight, and keep your mouth shut. It's up to the police to identify their precious corpse. And I bet Harold would say the same."
Decorative painting
"Oh, I know Harold would. And Alfred, also. But I'm worried, Cedric, I really am worried. I don't know what I ought to do."
"Nothing," said Cedric promptly. "You keep your mouth shut, Emma. Never go half-way to meet trouble, that's my motto."
Emma Crackenthorpe sighed. She went slowly back to the house uneasy in her mind.
As she came into the drive, Doctor Quimper emerged from the house and opened the door of his battered Austin car. He paused when he saw her, then leaving the car he came towards her.
Decorative painting

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
1 Platform was not at the moment unduly crowded, since a train had just gone out, but in the no-man's-land beyond, a milling crowd was rushing in several directions at once, to and from undergrounds, left-luggage offices, tea-rooms, injury offices, indicator boards, and the two outlets, Arrival and Departure, to the outside world.
Abstract Painting
Mrs. McGillicuddy and her parcels ere buffeted to and fro, but she arrived eventually at the entrance to No.3 platform, and deposited one parcel at her feet whilst she searched her bag for the ticket that would enable her to pass the stern uniformed guardian at the gate.
At that moment, a Voice, raucous yet refined, burst into speech over her head.
Abstract Painting

Rembrandt Painting

Rembrandt Painting
Mr Cust drew himself up still further.A beam of delight irradiated hisface. "Do you know,I believe you're right!Famous!In all the papers.I shalltake your advice,M.Poirot.The money will be most agreeable-most agreeable.Ishall have a little holiday......And then I want to give a nice weddingpresent to Lily Marbury-a dear girl-really a dear girl,M.Poirot." Poirot patted him encouragingly on the shoulder. "You are quite right.Enjoy yourself.And-just a little word-what about abisit to an oculist?Those headaches,it is probably that you want newglasses." "You think that it may have been that all the time?" "I do." Mr Cust shook him warmly by the hand.
Rembrandt Painting
Mrs. McGillicuddy panted along the platform in the wake of the porter carrying her suitcase. Mrs. McGillicuddy was short and stout, the porter was tall and free-striding. In addition, Mrs. McGillicuddy was burdened with a large quantity of parcels; the result of a day's Christmas shopping. The race was, therefore, an uneven one, and the porter turned the corner at the end of the platform whilst Mrs. McGillicuddy was still coming up the straight.
Rembrandt Painting

The Singing Butler

The Singing Butler
"You hardly spared my feelings,"said Thora Grey. "I do not fancy you returned me a truthful answer,mademoiselle,"saidPoirot dryly."And now your second expectation is disappointed.FranklinClarke will not inherit his brother's money." She flung up her head. "Is there any need for me to stay here and be insulted?" "None whatever,"said Poirot and held the door open politely for her. "That fingerprint clinched things,Poirot,"I said thoughtfully."He wentall to pieces when you mentioned that." "Yes,they are useful-fingerprints." He added thoughtfully: "I put that in to please you,my friend."
The Singing Butler
"But,Poirot,"I cried,"wasn't it true?" "Not in the least,mon ami,"said Hercule Poirot. I must mention a visit we had from Mr Alexander Bonaparte Cust a fewdays later.After wringing Poirot's hand and endeavouring very incoherentlyand unsuccessfully to thank him,Mr Cust drew himself up and said: "Do you know,a newspaper has actually offered me a hundred pounds-ahundred pounds-for a brief account of my life and history-I-I really don'tknow what to do about it." "I should not accept a hundred,"said Poirot."Be firm.Say five hundredis your price.And do not confine yourself to one newspaper." "Do you really think-that I might-""You must realize,"said Poirot,smiling,"that you are a very famous man.Practically the most famous man inEngland today."The Singing Butler

Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
Poirot turned to Fraser. "A Mademoiselle Megan,all along,was haunted by a fear that it was youwho had committed the second crime." Donald Fraser said quietly: "I fancied so myself at one time." "Because of your dream?"He drew a little nearer to the young man anddropped his voice confidentially."Your dream has a very naturalexplanation.It is that you find that already the image of one sister fadesin your memory and that its place is taken by the other sister. Mademoiselle Megan replaces her sister in your heart,but since youcannot bear to think of yourself being unfaithful so soon to the dead,youstrive to stifle the thought,to kill it!That is the explanation of thedream."
Jack Vettriano Painting
Fraser's eyes went towards Megan. "Do not be afraid to forget,"said Poirot gently."She was not so wellworth remembering.In Mademoiselle Megan you have one in a hundred-un coeurmagnifique!" Donald Fraser's eyes lit up. "I believe you are right." We all crowded round Poirot asking questions,elucidating this point andthat. "Those questions,Poirot?That you asked of everybody.Was there any pointin them?" "Some of them were simplement une blague.But I learnt one thing that Iwanted to know-that Franklin Clarke was in London when the first letter wasposted-and also I wanted to see his face when I asked my question ofMademoiselle Thora.He was off his guard.I saw all the malice and anger inhis eyes."Jack Vettriano Painting

Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
"You-"Words failed him.His face was livid.His fists clenched menacingly. Two detectives from Scotland Yard emerged from the next room.One of themwas Crome.He advanced and uttered his time-honoured formula:"I warn you thatanything you say may be used as evidence." "He has said quite enough,"said Poirot,and he added to Clarke:"You are very full of an insular superiority,but for myself I consider your crime not an English crime at all-not above-board-not sporting-" ------------------  from: http://christie.soim.net TYPE: Zhaoby
Mary Cassatt painting
I am sorry to relate that as the door closed behind Franklin Clarke Ilaughed hysterically. Poirot looked at me in mild surprise. "It's because you told him his crime was not sporting,"I gasped. "It was quite true.It was abominable-not so much the murder of hisbrother-but the cruelty that condemned an unfortunate man to a livingdeath.To catch a fox and put him in a box and never let him go!That is notle sport!" Megan Barnard gave a deep sigh. "I can't believe it-I can't.Is it true?" "Yes,mademoiselle.The nightmare is over." She looked at him and her colour deepened.
Mary Cassatt painting

Edward Hopper Painting

Edward Hopper Painting
You were identified at Bexhill the other day by Milly Higley and a girlfrom the Scarlet Runner Roadhouse,where you took Betty Barnard to dine onthe fatal evening.And finally-most damning of all-you overlook a mostelementary precaution.You left a fingerprint on Cust's typewriter-thetypewriter that,if you are innocent,you could never have handled." Clarke sat quite still for a miture,then he said: "Rouge,impair,manque!-you win,M.Poirot!But it was worth trying!" With an incredibly rapid motion he whipped out a small automatic fromhis pocket and held it to his head. I gave a cry and involuntarily flinched as I waited for the report. But no report came-the hammer clicked harmlessly.
Edward Hopper Painting
Clarke stared at it in astonishment and uttered an oath. "No,Mr Clarke,"said Poirot."You may have noticed I had a newmanservant today-a friend of mine-an expert sneak thief.He removed yourpistol from your pocket,unloaded it,and returned it,all without you beingaware of the fact." "You unutterable little jackanapes of a foreigner!"cried Clarke,purplewith rage. "YEs,yes,that is how you feel.No,Mr Clarke,no easy death for you. You told Mr Cust that you had had near escapes from drowning.You knowwhat that means-that you were born for another fate."
Edward Hopper Painting

Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Sunflower
"He has no money left-he is worn out......his feet lead him of his ownaccord to the police station. "But even a cornered beast will fight.Mr Cust fully believes that he didthe murders but he sticks strongly to his plea of innocence.And he holdswith desperation to that alibi for the second murder.At least that cannot belaid to his door. "As I say,when I saw him,I knew at once that he was not the murdererand that my name meant nothing to him.I knew,too,that he thought himselfthe murderer! "After he had confessed his guilt to me,I knew more strongly than everthat my own theory was right."
Van Gogh Sunflower
"Your theory,"said Franklin Clarke,"is absurd!" Poirot shook his head. "No,Mr Clarke.You were safe enough so long as no one suspect you.Onceyou were suspected proofs were easy to obtain." "Proofs?" "Yes.I found the stick that you used in the Andover and Churston murdersin a cupboard at Combeside.An ordinary stick with a thick knob handle.Asection of wood had been removed and melted lead poured in.Your photographwas picked out from half a dozen others by two people who saw you leavingthe cinema when you were supposed to be on the race-course at Doncaster.
Van Gogh Sunflower

Van Gogh Painting

Van Gogh Painting
"He goes to Doncaster because it is his duty.In the afternoon he goes toa cinema.Possibly he dozes off for a minute or two. "Imagine his feelings when on his return to his inn he discovers thatthere is blood on his coat sleeve and a blood-stained knife in his pocket. All his vague forebodings leap into certainty. "He-he himself-is the killer!He remembers his headaches-his lapses ofmemory.He is quite sure of the truth-he,Alexander Bonaparte Cust,is ahomicidal lunatic.
Van Gogh Painting
"His conduct after that is the conduct of a hunted animal.He gets backto his lodgings in London.He is safe there-known.They think he has been inCheltenham.He has the knife with him still-a thoroughly stupid thing to do,of course.He hides it behind the hall stand. "Then,one day,he is warned that the police are coming.It is the end! They know! "The hunted animal does his last run...... "I don't know why he went to Andover-a morbid desire,I think,to go andlook at the place where the crime was committed-the crime he committedthough he can remember nothing about it......Van Gogh Painting

Henri Matisse Painting

Henri Matisse Painting
"You were not in the least at pains to choose a victim whose name beganwith D.Anyone would do!You assumed-and quite rightly-that it would beconsidered to be a mistake.There was sure to be someone whose name beganwith D not far off in the audience.It would be assumed that he had beenintended to be the victim. "And now,my friends,let us consider the matter from the point of viewof the false A B C-from the point of view of Mr Cust. "The Andover crime means nothing to him.He is shocked and surprised bythe Bexhill crime-why,he himself was there about the time!Then comes theChurston crime and the headlines in the newspapers.An A B C crime at Andover
Henri Matisse Painting
when he was there,an A B C crime at Bexhill,and now another closeby......Three crimes and he has been at the scene of each of them.Personssuffering from epilepsy often have blanks when they cannot remember whatthey have done......Remember that Cust was a nervous,highly neuroticsubject and extremely suggestible. "Then he receives the order to go to Doncaster. "Doncaster!And the next A B C crime is to be in Doncaster.He must havefelt as though it was fate.He loses his nerve,fancies his landlady islooking at him suspiciously,and tells her he is going to Cheltenham.Henri Matisse Painting
Henri Matisse Painting

Marc Chagall Painting

Marc Chagall Painting
"Your stalking horse,Mr Cust,had so successfully lived up to his roleof the invisible-because insignificant-man,that so far no one had noticedthat the same person had been seen in the vicinity of the three murders!Toyour annoyance,even his visit to Combeside had not been mentioned.Thematter had passed completely out of Miss Grey's head. "Always daring,you decided that one more murder must take place butthis time the trail must be well blazed. "You selected Doncaster for the scene of operations.
Marc Chagall Painting
Your plan was very simple.You yourself would be on the scene in thenature of things.Mr Cust would be ordered to Doncaster by his firm.Your planwas to follow him round and trust to opportunity.Everything fell out well.MrCust went to a cinema.That was simplicity itself.You sat a few seats awayfrom him.When he got up to go,you did the same.You pretended to stumble,leaned over and stabbed a dozing man in the row in front,slid the A B C onto his knees and managed to collide heavily with Mr Cust in the darkeneddoorway,wiping the knife on his sleeve and slipping it into his pocket.
Marc Chagall Painting

The Birth of Venus

The Birth of Venus
"Erroneously i imagined some personal reason. "Not at all!The letters were sent to me because the essence of your planwas that one of them should be wrongly addressed an go astray-but you cannotarrange for a letter addressed to the Criminal Investigation Department ofScotland Yard to go astray!It is necessary to have a private address.Youchose me as a fairly well-known person,and a person who was sure to takethe letters to the police-and also,in your rather insular mind,you enjoyedscoring off a foreigner. "You addressed your envelope very cleverly-Whitehaven-Whitehorse-quite anatural slip.Only Hastings was sufficiently perspicacious to disregardsubtleties and go straight for the obvious!
The Birth of Venus
"Of course the letter was meant to go astray!The police were to be seton the trail only when the murder was safely over.Your brother's nightlywalk provided you with the opportunity.And so successfully had the A B Cterror taken hold on the public mind that the possibility of your guiltnever occurred to anyone. "After the death of your brother,of course,your object wasaccomplished.You had no wish to commit any more murders.On the other hand,if the murders stopped without reason,a suspicion of the truth might cometo someone.
The Birth of Venus

Bouguereau William

Bouguereau William
"In Betty Barnard you found just the type of girl you were looking for. You took her out once or twice,explaining to her that you were amarried man,and that outings must therefore take place in a somewhathole-and-corner manner. "Then,your preliminary plans completed,you set to work!You sent theAndover list to Cust,directing him to go there on a certain date,and yousent off the first A B C letter to me. "On the appointed day you went to Andover-and killed Mrs Ascher-withoutanything occurring to damage your plans. "Murder No.1was successfully accomplished.
Bouguereau William
"For the second murder,you took the precaution of committing it,inreality,the day before.I am fairly certain that Betty Barnard was killedwell before midnight on the 24th July. "We now come to murder No 3-the important-in fact,the real murder fromyour point of view. "And here a full meed of praise is due to Hastings,who made a simpleand obvious remark to which no attention was paid. "He suggested that the third letter went astray intentionally! "And he was right!...... "In that one simple fact lies the answer to the question that haspuzzled me so all along.Why were the letters addressed in the first place toHercule Poirot,a private detective,and not to the police?
Bouguereau William

Gustav Klimt Painting

Gustav Klimt Painting
"Your arrangements were excellent.In Cust's name you wrote for a largeconsignment of hosiery to be sent to him.You yourself sent a number of A BC's looking like a similar parcel.You wrote to him-a typed letter purportingto be from the same firm offering him a good salary and commission.Yourplans were so well laid beforehand that you typed all the letters that weresent subsequently,and then presented him with the machine on which they hadbeen typed. "You had now to look about for two victims whose names began with A andB respectively and who lived at places also beginning with those same letters. "You hit on Andover as quite a likely spot and your preliminary
Gustav Klimt Painting
reconnaissance there led you to select Mrs Ascher's shop as the scene of thefirst crime.Her name was written clearly over the door,and you found byexperiment that she was usually alone in the shop.Her muder needed nerve,daring and reasonable luck. "For the letter B you had to vary your tactics.Lonely women in shopsmight conceivably have been warned.I should imagine that you frequented afew cafes and teashops,laughing and joking with the girls there and findingour whose name began with the right letter and who would be suitable foryour purpose.Gustav Klimt Painting

Modern Art Painting

Modern Art Painting
Nevertheless,there was a very real danger that on the death of yoursister-in-law he might,in his loneliness,turn to this beautiful girl forsympathy and comfort and it might end-as so often happens with elderlymen-in his marrying her.Your fear was increased by your knowledge of MissGrey.You are,I fancy,an excellent,if somewhat cynical judge ofcharacter.You judged,whether correctly or not,that Miss Grey was a type ofyoung woman "on the make".You had no doubt that she would jump at the chanceof becoming Lady Clarke.Your brother was an extremely healthy and vigorousman.There might be children and your chance of inheriting your brother'swealth would vanish.
Modern Art Painting
"You have been,I fancy,in essence a disappointed man all your life.Youhave been the rolling stone-and you have gathered very little moss.You werebitterly jealous of your brother's wealth. "I repeat then that,turning over various schemes in your mind,yourmeeting with Mr Cust gave you an idea.His bombastic Christian names,hisaccount of his epileptic seizures and of his headaches,his whole shrinkingand insignificant personality,struck you as fitting him for the tool youwanted.The whole alphabetical plan sprang into your mind-Cust's initials-thefact that your brother's name began with a C and that he lived at Churstonwere the nucleus of the scheme.You even went so far as to hint to Cust athis possible end-though you could hardly hope that that suggestion wouldbear the rich fruit that it did!
Modern Art Painting

Art Painting

Art Painting
"No.Because as soon as I saw him I also knew that he could not beguilty!He has neither the nerve nor the daring-nor,I may add,the brains toplan!All along I have been aware of the dual personality of the murderer.NowI see wherein it consisted.Two people were involved-the real murderer,cunning,resourceful and daring-and the pseudo murderer,stupid,vacillatingand suggestible. "Suggestible-it is in that word that the mystery of Mr Cust consists!Itwas not enough for you,Mr Clarke,to devise this plan of a series todistract attention from a single crime.You had also to have a stalking horse.
Art Painting
"I think the idea first originated in your mind as the result of achance encounter in a city coffee den with this odd personality with hisbombastic Christian names.You were at that time turning over in your mindvarious plans for the murder of your brother." "Really?And why?" "Because you were seriously alarmed for the future.I do not know whetheryou realize it,Mr Clarke,but you played into my hands when you showed me acertain letter written to you by your brother.In it he displayed veryclearly his affection and absorption in Miss Thora Grey.His regard may havebeen a paternal one-or he may have preferred to think it so.Art Painting

Famous painting

Famous painting
Poirot turned slowly round till his eyes met those of Franklin Clarke. "I was quite sure then.The man I had known a long time in my secret mindwas the same as the man whom I had known as a person.A B C and FranklinClarke were one and the same!The daring adventurous character,the rovinglife,the partiality for England that had showed itself,very faintly,inthe jeer at foreigners.The attractive free and easy manner-nothing easierfor him than to pick up a girl in a cafe.The methodical tabular mind-he madea list here one day,ticked off over the headings A B C-and finally,theboyish mind-mentioned by ascertained that there is a book in the librarycalled The Railway Children by E.Nesbit.I had no further doubt in my ownmind-A B C,the man who wrote the letters and committed the crimes,wasFranklin Clarke."
Famous painting
Clarke suddenly burst out laughing. "Very ingenious!And what about our friend Cust,caught red-handed?Whatabout the blood on his coat?And the knife he hid in his lodgings?He may denyhe committed the crimes-"Poirot interrupted. "You are quite wrong.He admits the fact." "What?"Clarke looked really startled. "Oh,yes,"said Poirot gently."I had no sooner spoken to him than I wasaware that Cust believed himself to be guilty." "And even that didn't satisfy M.Poirot?"said Clarke.Famous painting

Famous artist painting

Famous artist painting
Motive.Who benefited by the deceased's death?If the motive and theopportunity are fairly obvious,what is a would-be murderer to do?Fake analibi-that is,manipulate time in some way?But that is always a hazardousproceeding.Our murderer thought of a more fantastic defence.Creat ahomicidal murderer! "I had now only to review the various crimes and find the possibleguilty person.The Andover crime?The most likely suspect for that was FranzAscher,but I could not imagine Ascher inventing and carrying out such anelaborate scheme,nor could I see him planning a premeditated murder.TheBexhill crime?Donald Fraser was a possibility.
Famous artist painting
He had brains and ability,anda methodical turn of mind.But his motive for killing his sweetheart couldonly be jealousy-and jealousy does not tend to premeditation.Also I learnedthat he had his holidays early in August,which rendered it unlikely he hadanything to do with the Churston crime.We come to the Churston crimenext-and at once we are on infinitely more promising ground. "Sir Carmichael Clarke was an immensely wealthy man.Who inherits hismoney?His wife,who is dying,has a life interest in it,and it then goes tohis brother Franklin."Famous artist painting

Decorative painting

Decorative painting
"It doesn't make sense,"Franklin Clarke repeated. "Mais si!One must reason-reflect.What would be the object of writingsuch letters?To focus attention on the writer,to call attention to themurders!En Verite,it did not seem to make sense at the first sight.And thenI saw light.It was to focus attention on several murders-on a group ofmurders......Is it not your great Shakespeare who had said "You cannot seethe trees for the wood." I did not correct Poirot's literary reminiscences.I was trying to seehis point.A glimmer came to me.He went on: "When do you notice a pin least?When it is in a pin-cushion!When do younotice an individual murder least?When it is one of a series of relatedmurders.
Decorative painting
"I had to deal with an intensely clever,resourceful murderer-reckless,daring and a thorough gambler.Not Mr Cust!He could never have committedthese murders!No,I had to deal with a very different stamp of man-a manwith a boyish temperament (witness the schoolboy-like letters and therailway guide),and attractive man to women,and a man with ruthlessdisregaard for human life,a man who was necessarily a prominent person inone of the crimes! "Consider when a man or woman is killed,what are the questions that thepolice ask?Opportunity.Where everybody was at the time of the crime?
Decorative painting

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Abstract Painting

Abstract Painting
All the details of the crime were reported fully and rehashed daily inthin disguises.The A B C railway guide came in for its share of attention. The favourite theory was that it had been bought locally by the murdererand that it was a valuable clue to his identity.It also seemed to show thathe had come to the place by train and was intending to leave for London. The railway guide had not figured at all in the meagre accounts of theAndover murder,so there seemed at present little likelihood of the twocrimes being connected in the public eye.
Abstract Painting
"We've got to decide upon a policy,"said the Assistant Commissioner. "The thing is-which way will give us the best results?Shall we give thepublic the facts-enlist their cooperation-after all,it'll be thecooperation of several million people,looking our for a madman-""He won'tlook like a madman,"interjected Dr Thompson. "-looking our for sales of A B C's-and so on.Against that I supposethere's the advantage of working in the dark-not letting our man know whatwe're up to,but then there's the fact that he knows very well that weknow.He's drawn attention to himself deliberately by his letters.Eh,Crome,What's your opinion?"
Abstract Painting