Pablo Picasso Gertrude Stein paintingTamara de Lempicka Portrait of Madame paintingEric Wallis Girls at the Beach painting
best efforts, working out to deeper water -- until at length the rapids took my legs from under me and fetched me thump against my adversary. In a whole panic, strangling and spitting, I clambered on him as upon a black boulder, not to drown; in only a moment I had climbed to his shoulders and got my legs round his neck. Whereupon a remarkable change came over him: instead of flinging me off or ducking me under, he gripped my ankles, and giving over the assault, struck out purposefully and midstreamwards.
Now I had time to hear Max crying behind us, "Yi yi yi!" while from the shore ahead, where she flickered in the firelight, the bridge-girl resumed her call. And if itwas G. Herrold's ghost who bore me, death had worked alterations on him: the head I clutched was bald instead of woolly, he had grown a muscled paunch, and in general his body was huger and more gross. Then I heard him respond with his curious noise to the girl's cry "Croaker," and it struck me hedid rather croak than grunt. I addressed him myself in that wise: sure enough, his grip tightened on my ankles, and he seemed to nod his head as he croaked
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