Claude Monet Water Lilies

large city on his cheeks; his nose could have hidden successfully in a bowl of strawberries. He wore a ragged jerkin and holey tights with an aplomb that nearly convinced you that his velvet-and-vermine robes were in the wash just at the moment. In one hand he held a towel, with which he had clearly been removing the make-up that still greased his features.
'I know you,' said Granny. 'You done the murder.' She looked sideways at Magrat, and admitted, grudgingly, . One of his legs, meanwhile, had wandered off behind him. The rest of his body sagged politely until his head was level with Granny's knees.
'Yes, well,' said Granny. She felt that her clothes had grown a bit larger and much hotter.
'I thought you was very good, too,' said Nanny Ogg. 'The way you shouted all them words so graciously. I could tell you was a king.''Leastways, it looked like it.''So glad. It is always a pleasure to meet a true connoisseur. Olwyn Vitoller, at your service. Manager of this band of vagabonds,' said the man and, removing his moth-eaten hat, he treated her to a low bow. It was less an obeisance than an exercise in advanced topology.The hat swerved and jerked through a series of complex arcs, ending up at the end of an arm which was now pointing in the direction of the sky
'I hope we didn't upset things,' said Magrat.