Frank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans Merci paintingSandro Botticelli The Birth of Venus paintingEdward Hopper Nighthawks painting
his wake, across a significant portion of the wide attic, the framed posters swung like giant pendulums. He had stirred some of them during his flight, but the wind of those dozen fanned others into gentler motion, perpetrating a wider nations of Manheim, thwarted the even flow of light from aisle to aisle.Crouched warily in gloom, Fric drew a deep breath, held it, listened.At first he could hear nothing but the didop-da-bidda-boom of his skipping-drumming heart, but near the useful end of that banked breath, he began to hear, as well, the dash of rain on slate.Aware that by his every noise he would locate himself for the stalking predator, Fric eased out the dead breath, coaxed in a live one, held it.Higher in the house, he was also higher in the storm. Here the lonely sighing of the rain swelled into the whispers of a multitude exchanging sinister secrets in the sea of night that now submerged Palazzo Rospo.disturbance.[266] Among all this movement, the approach of the mirror man was more difficult to discern than it would have been in an attic steeped in stillness. Fric couldn’t catch a glimpse of him.Unless you were a skulking fiend with a sympathy for shadows, the lighting here was troublesome. Wall lamps ringed the perimeter of the attic, while others were mounted to some of the columns that supported the trusswork, though the number and brightness of them left much to be desired. The hanging palisades of posters, arrayed like flags from the many
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