Jean Beraud Le Cafe de Paris painting

Jean Beraud Le Cafe de Paris paintingJean Beraud La Rue de la Paix paintingHenri Rousseau The Football Players painting
What is it?" Greene asked. "What's going on, Leo?"
"I can't see, classmate."
The troopers murmured at my strange countenance and behavior; Croaker rumbled, feeling my thigh-grip on his neck, and stood up in the sidecar.
"Don't try to get loose!" No doubt it was Leonid Stoker warned, but his words struck my heart, and I gave myself up utterly to that which bound, possessed, and bore me. I let go, I let all go; relief went through me like a purge. And as if in signal of my freedom, over the reaches of the campus the bells of Tower Clock suddenly rang out, somehow unjammed: their first full striking since the day I'd passed through Scrapegoat Grate. As all listened astonished, the strokes mounted --one, two, three, four - - each bringing from my pressed eyes the only tears they'd spilled since a fateful late-June morn many terms past, out in the barns.Sol, la, ti, each a tone higher than its predecessor, unbinding, releasing me -- thendo : my eyes were opened; I was delivered.
Dr. Eierkopf too the bells revived; at first sound of them he had sat up and