the last supper painting
picture of the last supper
leonardo da vinci last supper painting
leonardo da vinci mona lisa
ten minutes. Catherine's cup was never filled: she could neither eat nor drink. Edgar had made a slop in his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful. Their guest did not protract his stay that evening above an hour longer. I asked, as he departed, if he went to Gimmerton?
oil paintings `No, to Wuthering Heights,' he answered: `Mr Earnshaw invited me, when I called this morning.'
Mr Earnshaw invited him! and he called on Mr Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone. Is he turning out a bit of a hypocrite, and coming into the country to work mischief under a cloak? I mused: I had a presentiment in the bottom of my heart that he had better have remained away.
About the middle of the night, I was wakened from my first nap by Mrs Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment