Sunday, May 18, 2008

the last supper painting

the last supper painting
And then, with victory actually in her grasp, poor Daisy saw it snatched from her.
"Ellen is right," Bunting said heavily. "Money does matter - a terrible deal-though I never thought to hear Ellen say 'twas the only thing that mattered. But 'twould be foolish - very, very foolish, my girl, to offend your Aunt Margaret. It'll only be two days after all - two days isn't a very long time."
But Daisy did not hear her father's last words. She had already rushed from the room, and gone down to the kitchen to hide her childish tears of disappointment - the childish tears which came because she was beginning to be a woman, with a woman's natural instinct for building her own human nest.
Aunt Margaret was not one to tolerate the comings of any strange young man, and she had a peculiar dislike to the police.
"Who'd ever have thought she'd have minded as much as that!" Bunting looked across at Ellen deprecatingly; already his heart was misgiving him.
"It's plain enough why she's become so fond of us all of a sudden," said Mrs. Bunting sarcastically. And as her husband stared at her uncomprehendingly, she added, in a tantalising tone, "as plain as the nose on your face, my man."

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