Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window

Marc Chagall Paris Through the WindowMarc Chagall Adam and EveMarc Chagall La Mariee
You want mother,’ said the tall girl. ‘Mother! There’s a gentleman!’ A distant muttering became a closer muttering, and then Mrs Cake appeared around the side of her daughter like a small moon emerging from planetary shadow.
‘What d’yew want?’ said Mrs Cake.
Windle took a step backwards. Unlike her daughter, Mrs Cake was quite
short, and almost perfectly circular. And still unlike her daughter, whose
.
‘Oim down ‘ere,’ said a reproachful voice.
Windle lowered his gaze.
‘That’s ‘oo I am, ‘ said Mrs Cake.
‘Am I addressing Mrs Cake?’ said Windle.
‘Yes, oi, know,’ said Mrs Cake.dedicated to making herself look small, she loomed tremendously. This was largely because of her hat, which he later learned she wore at all times with the dedication of a wizard. It was huge and black and had things on it, like bird wings and wax cherries and hatpins; Carmen Miranda could have worn that hat to the funeral of a continent. Mrs Cake travelled underneath it as the basket travels under a balloon. People often found themselves talking to her hat. ‘Mrs Cake?’ said Windle, fascinated
‘My name’s Windle Poons.’
‘Oi knew that, too.’