Wassily Kandinsky Yellow Red Blue

Wassily Kandinsky Yellow Red BlueVincent van Gogh The SowerVincent van Gogh The Night Cafe
were reacting with shouts and screams.
A GOOD CLEAN JOB, said Death. ROYALTY ARE ALWAYS A PROBLEM. THEY TEND TO WANT TO HANG ON. YOUR AVERAGE PEASANT, NOW, HE CAN'T WAIT.
'Who the hell are you?' said the king. 'What are you doing here? Eh? Guards! I deman —' The insistent message from his eyes finally battered through to his brain. Mort was impressed. King Olerve had held on to his throne for many years and, even when dead, knew how to behave. 'Oh,' he said, 'I see. I didn't expect to see you so oon.'
YOUR MAJESTY, said Death, bowing, FEW DO.
The king lookedINDEED NOT, SIRE.
'The old rope ladder and fast horse by the drawbridge trick, eh?'
SO IT WOULD APPEAR, SIRE, said Death, taking the king's shade gently around. It was quiet and dim in this shadow world, but outside there seemed to be a lot of excitement.'That's me down there, is it?'I AM AFRAID SO, SIRE.'Clean job. Crossbow, was it?'YES. AND NOW, SIRE, IF YOU WOULD —'Who did it?' said the king. Death hesitated.A HIRED ASSASSIN FROM ANKH-MORPORK, he said.'Hmm. Clever. I congratulate Sto Helit. And here's me filling myself with antidotes. No antidote to cold steel, eh? Eh?'