Juan Gris The Guitar 1918 painting

Juan Gris The Guitar 1918 paintingJuan Gris Teacups paintingJuan Gris Portrait of Josette Gris painting
pointing a long painted finger, singing verses whose cruel brilliance ensures their painfulness. That night, when the supplicants have gone, Khalid asks Mahound: "You're still thinking about him?" The Messenger nods, but will not speak. Khalid says: "I made Salman take me to his room, a hovel, but he isn't there, he's hiding out." Again, the nod, but no speech. Khalid presses on: "You want me to dig him out? Wouldn't take much doing. What d"you want done with him? This? This?" Khalid's finger moves first across his neck and then, with a sharp jab, into his navel. Mahound loses his temper. "You're a fool," he shouts at the former water-carrier who is now his military chief of staff. "Can't you ever work things out without my help?"
Khalid bows and goes. Mahound falls asleep: his old gift, his way of dealing with bad moods.