Jack Vettriano The Missing Man

Jack Vettriano The Missing ManJack Vettriano The Missing Man IJack Vettriano The Man in the Mirror
'Well, then,' she said, 'I don't want something soppy and posey. No silly black lace or anything worn by idiots who write poetry in their rooms and dress like vampires and are vegetarians really.'
The images of clothes floated across her reflection. It was clear that black was the only option, but she settled on something Glod wandered quietly into the University Library. Dwarfs respected learning, provided they didn't have to experience it.
He tugged at the robe of a passing young wizard.
'There's a monkey runs this place, right?' he said. 'Big fat hairy monkey, hands a couple of octaves wide?'
The wizard, a pasty‑faced post‑graduate student, looked down at Glod practical and without frills. She put her head on one side critically.'Well, maybe a bit of lace,' she said. 'And perhaps a bit more . . . bodice.'She nodded at her reflection in the mirror. Certainly it was a dress that no Susan would ever wear, although she suspected that there was a basic Susanness about her which would permeate it after a while.'It's a good job you're here,' she said, 'or I'd go totally mad. Haha.'Then she went to see her grandf . . . Death.There was one place he had to be.