The Sentinels after delacroix

He did stand, but swayed, and was so focused on appearing well that he did not heed her words. It wasn't until her final question, hastily sprouting from her fine mouth, that he blurted an answer, Se sèlman gwo lanmou pou ou. He looked from the wet sand at his paws to her fine face, her worried face, and saw Monet there; his smile was genuine as it spread across his own yellowed face, and then he chuckled, realizing what he had said and being drunk from his injury. Yon renmen gwo anpil, paske ou se tankou yon ti fi amann! Yon entelijan, bèl, pafè ti fi - ak yon sèl jou yon amann fanm, oh, mwen santi mwen yon gwo anpil bagay sa yo he teetered, tottered, and went down again as he stepped towards her, loosing another off-kilter laugh as he sagged against her. oop! Ou te men byen bale m'wete pye trè mwen, ou dous ti fi.