Sandro Botticelli Venus and Mars

Sandro Botticelli Venus and MarsJean Beraud La Rue de la PaixHenri Rousseau The Snake Charmer
There seemed to be a whole world under the University. It was a maze of cellars, coldrooms, stillrooms, kitchens and sculleries, and every inhabitant was either carrying something, pumping something, pushing something or just standing around and shouting. Granny caught glimpses of rooms full of ice, and others glowing with -telling provided it was done badly by people with no talent for it. It was a different matter if people who ought to know better did it, though. She considered that the wall-sized. Bakeries smelled of new bread and taprooms smelled of old beer. Everything smelled of sweat and woodsmoke: The housekeeper led her up an old spiral staircase and unlocked the door with one of the large number of keys that hung from her belt. The room inside was pink and frilly. There were frills on things that no one in their right mind would frill. It was like being inside candyfloss. "Very nice," said Granny. And, because she felt it was expected of her, "Tasteful." She looked around for something unfrilly to sit on, and gave up. "Whatever am Aye thinking of?" the housekeeper trilled. "Aye'm Mrs Whitlow but I expect you know, of course. And Aye have the honour to be addressing - ?" "Eh? Oh, Granny Weatherwax," said Granny. The frills were getting to her. They gave pink a bad name. "Ay'm psychic myself, of course," said Mrs Whitlow. Granny had nothing against fortune