Claude Monet Snow at Argenteuil

Claude Monet Snow at ArgenteuilClaude Monet Houses of Parliament LondonClaude Monet Custom Officer's Cabin at VarengvilleClaude Monet ChrysanthemumsClaude Monet Camille Monet in the Garden
Victor eyed the glistening tubes in the tray around Dibbler’s neck. They smelled appetizing. They always did. And then you bit of the pan and snatched it into a bun with the expertise of a frog snapping a mayfly.
‘You won’t live to regret it,’ he said cheerfully,
Victor nibbled a bit of onion. That was safe enough.
‘What’s all this?’ he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the into them, and learned once again that Cut-me-own-Throat Dibbler could find a use for bits of an animal that the animal didn’t know it had got. Dibbler had worked out that with enough fried onions and mustard people would eat anything. ‘Special rate for students,’ Dibbler whispered conspiratorially. ‘Fifteen pence, and that’s cutting my own throat.’ He flapped the frying pan lid strategically, raising a cloud of steam. The piquant scent of fried onions did its wicked work. ‘Just one, then,’ Victor said warily. Dibbler flicked a sausage out