Paul Cezanne Leda with Swan

Paul Cezanne Leda with SwanPaul Cezanne House and TreesPaul Cezanne A Modern OlympiaLaurie Maitland Autumn SongWilliam Bouguereau Yvonne
you, laddie. I don't mind telling you. You've been like a son to me. How old are you, exactly? I never did know.'
'A hundred and two.'
Vitoller nodded gloomily. He was sixty, and his arthritis was playing him up.
'You've been like a father to me, then,' he said.
'It evens 'Aye. You don't want him to go, do you?'
'I was all for it at first. You know. Then I thought, there's destiny afoot. Just when things are going well, there's always bloody destiny. I mean, that's where he came from.
Somewhere up in the mountains. Now fate is calling him back. I shan't see out in the end,' said Hwel diffidently. 'Half the height, twice the age. You could say that on the overall average we live about the same length of time as humans.'The playmaster sighed. 'Well, I don't know what I will do without you and Tomjon around, and that's a fact.''It's only for the summer, and a lot of the lads are staying. In fact it's mainly the apprentices that are going. You said yourself it'd be good experience.'Vitoller looked wretched and, in the chilly air of the half-finished theatre, a good deal smaller than usual, like a balloon two weeks after the party. He prodded some wood shavings distractedly with his stick.'We grow old, Master Hwel. At least,' he corrected himself, 'I grow old and you grow older. We have heard the gongs at midnight.'