Alexandre Cabanel Nymph and Satyr painting

Alexandre Cabanel Nymph and Satyr paintingThomas Gainsborough Thomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan paintingThomas Gainsborough Landscape with Cattle painting
of his throat, and unfortunately slashed his patchless eye. Whereupon, stricken with remorse, Greene had snatched the vodka-bottle and stabbed out his own.
"The way they bloodied up the Living Room," Stoker said, "you'd have thought it was the Amphitheater!"
He had arrested them both and administered first aid; amnesty or no amnesty, he declared, he was fetching them to Main Detention, where he meant to stay himself until Rexford should sober up and go "back where he belongs." As for Anastasia, she might breed a barnful of billy-goat bastards for all he cared.
Leonid said flatly: "He cares."
"Yep," said Greene. "Anybody can see that."
Stoker responded with a jeer. "So there they sit, Goat-Boy: two blind bats! Are they passed or failed?"
Affecting as the grim tale was despite its teller's sarcasm, and shocking the bloody sight of my former cellmates, I listened and looked without comment, if no longer without emotion. Yet it wasn't pity I felt, or terror, not even responsibility for their present wretchedness. Stoker's question had been mine since early on in his narrative, and had absorbed me entirely well before he asked it, fetching me from apathy into the intensest