Paul Gauguin By the Sea

Paul Gauguin By the SeaPaul Gauguin Breton Girls DancingHenri Matisse The MoroccansHenri Matisse Still Life with Oranges
'And that was in a tree.'
'Where are we?'
'Not even a tree near here. What?'
Gaspode sniffed the air. His nose could read the city in a way reminiscent of Captain Vimes' educated soles.
'Junction of Scoone Avenue and Prouts,' he said.
'Trail's dying bear across the snow, wearing the landscape like a skin—
Gaspode glanced sideways. Angua was sitting on her haunches, staring.
'Yer tongue's hanging out,' he said.
'What? . . . So? So what? That's natural. I'm panting.'
'Har, har.'
Carrot noticed them, and stopped.
'Why, it's the little mongrel dog,' he said.out. It's mixed up with too much other stuff.'Angua sniffed around for a while. Someone had come up here, but too many people had crossed the trail. The sharp smell was still there, but only as a suggestion in the welter of conflicting scents.She was aware of an overwhelming smell of approaching soap. She'd noticed it before, but only as a woman and only as a faint whiff. As a quadruped, it seemed to fill the world.Corporal Carrot was walking up the road, looking thoughtful. He wasn't looking where he was going, however, but he didn't need to. People stood aside for Corporal Carrot.It was the first time she'd seen him through these eyes. Good grief. How did people not notice it? He walked through the city like a tiger through tall grass, or a hubland