Edward Hopper Portrait of Orleans

they were its legs. A sad, rubbery face turned towards the speaker, its expression as melancholy as the mists of evolution. Its funny lips curled back. There was abolutely nothing funny about its teeth.
'Er,' said the barman again, his voice frightening even him in that terrible simian silence. 'I don't think you meant soon get talked about. But years of wielding a pen instead of a hammer had relieved Hwel's punches of some of their stopping power, and it could have been the end of him when the big man yelled and drew his sword if a pair of delicate, leathery hands hadn't instantly jerked the thing from his grip and, with only a small amount of effort, bent it
When the giant growled, and turned around, an arm like a couple of broom handles that, did you? Not about monkeys, eh? You didn't really, did you?''What the hell's that?' hissed Tomjon.'I think it's an orang-utan,' said Hwel. 'An ape.''A monkey's a monkey,' said the bearded man, at which several of the Drum's more percipient customers started to edge for the door. 'I mean, so what? But these bloody lawn ornaments—'Hwel's fist struck out at groin height.Dwarfs have a reputation as fearsome fighters. Any race of three-foot tall people who favour axes and go into battle as into a championship tree-felling competition