Diane Romanello Sunset Beach

Diane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of Woman
not a mother," snapped Granny. "I'm certainly not your mother, if you ever had mothers, which I doubt. If I was your mother I'd have run away before you were born."
"It's only a figure of speech," said the head reproachfully.
"It's a damned insult is what it is!"
There was another whispered conversation.
"If I don't get out," said Granny in ringing tones, "there will be Trouble. Do you see my hat, eh? Do you see it?"
The head reappeared.
"That's the whole point, isn't it?" it said. "I mean, what will there be if we let you out? It seems less risky all round if we "Well, we could come to some arrangement . . . ."
The dwarf halls rang to the sound of hammers, although mainly for effect. Dwarves found it hard to think without the sound of hammers, which they found soothing, so well-off dwarves in the clerical just sort of fill the pit in. Nothing personal, you understand." Granny realized what it was that was bothering her about the head. "Are you kneeling down?" she said accusingly. "You're not, are you! You're dwarves!" Whisper, whisper. "Well, what about it?" asked the head defiantly. "Nothing wrong with that, is there? What have you got against dwarves?" "Do you know how to repair broomsticks?" "Magic broomsticks?" "Yes!" Whisper, whisper. "What if we do?"