Franz Marc yellow cow

Franz Marc yellow cowFranz Marc TigerFranz Marc Stables
washing line was catching the breeze.
It wavered for a moment, and then vanished.
‘I saw it,’ said Miss Flitworth.
THAT WASN’T IT. THAT WAS THEM.
‘Them who?’
THEY’RE LIKE - Bill Door waved a hand vaguely - SERVANTS.
WATCHERS. AUDITORS. INSPECTORS.
Miss Flitworth’s eyes narrowed.
‘Inspectors? You mean like the Revenoo?’ she said.
I SUPPOSE SO-
Miss Flitworth’s face lit up.
‘Whyof anyone.’
She sniffed.
Bill Door was impressed. Miss Flitworth could actually give the word “revenue”, which had two vowels and one diphthong, all the peremptoriness of the word “scum”. didn’t you say?’I’M SORRY?‘My father always made me promise never to help the Revenoo. Even just thinking about the Revenoo, he said, made him want to go and have a lie down. He said that there was death and taxes, and taxes was worse, because at least death didn’t happen to you every year. We had togo out of the room when he really got started about the Revenoo. Nasty creatures. Always poking around asking what you’ve got hidden under the woodpile and behind the secret panels in the cellar and other stuff which is no concern whatsoever