Nicolas De Stael Jazz Musicians

Nicolas De Stael Jazz MusiciansNicolas De Stael Fiesole 1953Nicolas De Stael Cap Gris-Nez
did leave the problem of whether to knock. Somehow, it didn't seem appropriate. Supposing no-one answered, or told him to go away?
So he lifted the thumb latch and pushed at the door. It swung inwards quite easily, without a creak.
There was a low-her blinked calmly at Mort.
The scythe bumped off a beam. The woman looked up.
'Be with you in a minute,' she said. She frowned at the paper. 'I haven't put in the bit about being of sound mind and body yet, lot of foolishness anyway, no-one sound in mind and body would be dead. Would you like a drink?'
'Pardon?' said Mort. He recalled himself, and repeated 'PARDON?'ceilinged kitchen, its beams at trepanning height for Mort. The light from the solitary candle glinted off crockery on a long dresser and flagstones that had been scrubbed and polished into iridescence. The fire in the cave-like inglenook didn't add much light, because it was no more than a heap of white ash under the remains of a log. Mort knew, without being told, that it was the last log.An elderly lady was sitting at the kitchen table, writing furiously with her hooked nose only a few inches from the paper. A grey cat curled on the table beside