He was a wonderful talkative person:  The people, even young boys, had always competed in the dining room to sit with him.
But after the holidays, the winter wind came, coming from it, releasing a volley of hail that clattered against the windows.
We stayed talking in his room, relaxed and drinking a good wine and rested with comfort in our chairs before a good fire.
After the talk I told him about my travels and news that I had told him and now, with the fireplace burning, our conversation came to an end.

In an instant he had fallen asleep.
However, He speak at the time:
-I was wondering if you wanted to hear a strange story.
-Of course.
-It's strange and, in a way, disturbing.-He sat up in his seat.
He never complained about it, but I suspect that his arthritis caused him considerable pain.-The right kind of story for a night like this.
Take a look at it. His face, illuminated by the glow of the fire, had such a serious expression (I would almost say deadly serious) that it scared me to see him like that.
-You believe what you want, ___-he said softly-,but I assure you this story is true.-He leaned forward.

Before we start, ¿would you mind bringing the whishy decanter closer?
I got up and went to the drinks shelf and, as I did so, __ said: -My story relates to the painting on your left.

¿Do you remember it?