Henri Matisse The Moroccans

Henri Matisse The MoroccansHenri Matisse Still Life with OrangesHenri Matisse Open Window Collioure
They all turned.
"Did you hear me?" said Sergeant Simony, pushing his way forward.
"But the deacon told us-”
"Corporal?"
"Yes, sergeant?"
"The deacon is far away. I am right here."
"Yes, sergeant." Go.
"Yes, sergeant."
Simony cocked an ear as the soldiers marched away.
Then he stuck his sword in the door and turned to Didactylos. He made a fist with his left hand and brought his right hand down on it, palm extended.
"The Turtle Moves," he said.
"That all depends," said the philosopher, cautiously.
"I mean I am .is that Vorbis means to have you killed and he will burn your Library. But I can help. I worked it out on the way here."
"And don't listen to him," said Simony. He dropped on one knee in front of Didact . . a friend," he said."Why should we trust you?" said Urn."Because you haven't got any choice," said Sergeant Simony briskly."Can you get us out of here?" said Brutha.Simony glared at him. "You?" he said. "Why should I get you out of here? You're an inquisitor!" He grasped his sword.Brutha backed away."I'm not!""On the ship, when the captain sounded you, you just said nothing," said Simony. "You're not one of us.""I don't think I'm one of them, either," said Brutha. "I'm one of mine."He gave Didactylos an imploring look, which was a wasted effort, and turned it towards Urn instead."I don't know about this soldier," he said. "All I know ylos, like a supplicant. "Sir, there are . . . some of us . . . who know your book for what it is . . . see, I have