Jack Vettriano Night GeometryJack Vettriano Narcissistic BathersJack Vettriano Mr Cool
caught between lines. Only there was it pure. It was when people started doing things with it that the rot set in. Much better to sit quietly in a room and read the sheets, with nothing between yourself and the mind of the composer but a scribble of .'
'Nah, the monkey went on playin' what was left,' said Cumbling Michael. 'And people got up and started cheerin' and dancin and stampin' their feet like there was a plague of cockroaches.'
'And you say the men from the Musicians' Guild were hurt?'
'It was dead strange. They were white as a sheet afterwards. At least,' Cumbling ink. Having it played by sweaty fat men and people with hair in their ears and spit dribbling out of the end of their oboe . . . well, the idea made him shudder. Although not much, because he never did anything to extremes.So...'And then what happened?' he said.'An' then he started singin', yerronner,' said Cumbling Michael, licensed beggar and informal informant. 'A song about Great Fiery Balls.'The Patrician raised an eyebrow.'Pardon?''Somethin' like that. Couldn't really make out the words, the reason bein', the piano exploded.''Ah? I imagine this interrupted the proceedings somewhat
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