Paul Gauguin The White Horse

Paul Gauguin The White HorsePaul Gauguin The SiestaPaul Gauguin Tahitian Women On the BeachPaul Gauguin Still Life with Three Puppies
,' said Gaspode. 'Lots of fear.'
He sniffed the planks. 'Human fear, not dwarf. You can tell if it's dwarfs. It's the rat diet, see? Phew! Must have been real bad to stay this strong.'
'I smell one male human, one dwarf,' said Angua.
'Yeah. One dead dwarf.'
Gaspode stuck can't lie. Pheremonies. It's the ole sexual alchemy stuff.'
'I've only known him a couple of nights!'
'Aha!'
'What do you mean, aha?'
'Nothing, nothing. Nothing wrong with it, anyway—'his battered nose along the line of the door, and snuffled noisily.'There's other stuff,' he said, 'but it's a bugger what with the river so close and everything. There's oil and . . . grease . . . and all sorts – hey, where're you going?'Gaspode trotted after her as Angua headed back to Rime Street, nose close to the ground.'Following the trail.''What for? He won't thank you, you know.''Who won't?''Your young man.'Angua stopped so suddenly that Gaspode ran into her.'You mean Corporal Carrot? He's not my young man!''Yeah? I'm a dog, right? It's all in the nose, right? Smell