Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child

Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and Child and Two AngelsJean Beraud The Theatre des VarietesJean Beraud Symphony in Red and Gold
don't blame me if it doesn't work properly, that's all.
Lessee . . . "Baboon hair and . . ." Who's got the baboon hair? Oh, thank you, Gytha, though it looks more like cat hair to me, but never mind. "Baboon hair and mandrake root", and if that's real mandrake I'm very surprised, "carrot juice and tongue of boot", I see, a little humour, I suppose . . .'
'Please hurry!'
'All right, all right. "Owl hoot and glow-worm glimmer. Boil – and then allow to simmer." '
'You know, or he isn 't. . .'
He got up and doused his face in the washbasin.
Silence rolled in swathes from Hwel's room. Tomjon slipped on his clothes and pushed open the door.
It looked as though it had snowed indoors, great heavy flakes that had drifted into odd corners of the room. Hwel sat at his low table in the middle of the floor, his head pillowed on a pile of paper, snoring.
Tomjon tiptoed across the room and piled up a discarded ball of paper at random, Esme, this doesn't taste half bad.''You 're not supposed to drink it, you daft doyenne!'Tomjon sat bolt upright in bed. That was them again, the same faces, the bickering voices, distorted by tune and space.Even after he looked out of the window, where fresh daylight was streaming through the city, he could still hear the voices grumbling into the distance, like old thunder, fading away . . .'I for one didn't believe it about the tongue of boot.''It's still very runny. Do you think we should put some cornflour into it?''It won't matter. Either he's on his way