leonardo da vinci mona lisa

leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci painting
leonardo da vinci the last supper
mona lisa painting
Then he said:
"That's a very extraordinary story." His eyes, without seeming to do so, had sized Mrs. McGillicuddy up whilst she was telling it.
On the whole, he was favourably impressed. A sensible woman, able to tell a story clearly; not, so far as he could judge, an over-imaginative or a hysterical woman. Moreover, Miss Marple, so it seemed, believed in the accuracy of her friend's story and he knew all about Miss Marple. Everybody in St. Mary Mead knew Miss Marple; fluffy and dithery in appearance, but inwardly as sharp and as shrewd as they make them.
He cleared his throat and spoke.
oil painting
"Of course," he said, “you may have been mistaken - I'm not saying you were, mind - but you may have been. There's a lot of horse-play goes on – it mayn't have been serious or fatal."
"I know what I saw," said Mrs. McGillicuddy grimly.
"And you won't budge from it," thought Frank Cornish, "and I'd say that, likely or unlikely, you may be right."
Aloud he said: "You reported it to the railway officials, and you've come and reported it to me. That's the proper procedure and you may rely on me to have inquiries instituted."