Claude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil painting

Claude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil paintingClaude Monet Monet The Luncheon paintingClaude Monet Monet Water Lillies I painting
monstrously wobbling uswards now with its sprawl of eyes, mad hoots, and growling throats. Max too was startled, and clambered to his feet; Croaker let go my stick and crouched under me with a grunt -- whether of defiance or fright I could not judge. Only Anastasia seemed not especially anxious; she frowned at the snarling lights more in disapproval than in fear, and remained in her place by the fire.
"He always has to do thingsdramatically," she complained.
"Those are motorcycles," Max muttered to me. "Ten or twelve separate ones. The noise is their motors and horns."
I was at once unspeakably relieved, for though I'd seldom actually seen motorcycles, I understood them well enough. As they drew nearer, the firelight revealed a party of humans in black leather jackets, variously ornamented with silver studs and bright glass jewels. Goggled and helmeted, each was mounted upon a gleaming black machine with sidecar attached. They drew up in a rough half-circle around us, engines guttering: piled up, rather, for there was no precision in the maneuver. The lead cyclist -- a bearded, sooty fellow -- braked abruptly with a spray of sand and no prior warning; the second