Henri Matisse Odalisque

Henri Matisse OdalisqueHenri Matisse MusicHenri Matisse Le bonheur de vivre
Her hand was warm. He was more aware of that than of the great mass of leaves and branches above them. Pretending to gaze vacantly at the horizon, he let his attention wander upward into the confused mass of green, brown, and blue, and there, she was right! , there was a something that was not the tree. And beside it, another.to change their minds, by shaking their heads and walking away.
"I wish we could look behind," Lyra said when they were a few hundred yards away.
"Just go on walking. They can see us, and they won't get lost. They'll come to us when they want to."
They stepped off the black road and into the knee-high grass, swishing their legs through the stems, watching the insects hovering, darting, fluttering, skimming, hearing the million-voiced chorus chirrup and scrape.
"What are you going to do, Will?" Lyra said quietly after they'd walked "Walk away," Will said under his breath. "We'll go somewhere else and see if they follow us.""Suppose they don't... But yes, all right," Lyra whispered back.They pretended to look all around; they set their hands on one of the branches resting on the ground, as if they were intending to climb; they pretended