contemporary painting

Poirot coughed and said: "You know，Hastings，there is a little device-my hairdresser is a man ofgreat ingenuity-one attaches it to the scalp and brushes one's own hair overit-it is not a wig，you comprehend-but-""Poirot，"I roared."Once and for allI will have nothing to do with the beastly inventions of your confoundedhairdresser. What's the matter with the top of my head?" "Nothing-nothing at all." "It's not as though I were going bald." "Of course not!Of course not!" "The hot summers out there naturally cause the hair to fall out a bit.
Ishall take back a really good hair tonic." "Precisement." "And，anyway，what business is it of Japp's?He always was an offensivekind of devil.And no sense of humour.The kind of man who laughs when a chairis pulled away just as a man is about to sit down." "A great many people would laugh at that." "It's utterly senseless."

contemporary painting

MADAME DEFARGE and monsieur her husband returned amicably to the bosom of Saint Antoine, while a speck in a blue cap toiled through the darkness, and through the dust, and down the weary miles of avenue by the wayside, slowly tending towards that point of the compass where the chateau of Monsieur the Marquis, now in his grave, listened to the whispering trees. Such ample leisure had the stone faces, now, for listening to the trees and to the fountain, that the few village scarecrows who, in their quest for herbs to eat and fragments of dead stick to burn,

strayed within sight of the great stone courtyard and terrace staircase, had it borne in upon their starved fancy that the expression of the faces was altered. A rumour just lived in the village- had a faint and bare existence there, as its people had- that when the knife struck home, the faces changed, from faces of pride to faces of anger and pain; also, that when that dangling figure was hauled up forty feet above the