the Night Watch

the Night Watch
The Nut Gatherers
The Painter's Honeymoon
the polish rider
At the close of three weeks, I was able to quit my chamber, and move about the house. And on the first occasion of my sitting up in the evening, I asked Catherine to read to me, because my eyes were weak. We were in the library, the master having gone to bed: she consented, rather unwillingly, I fancied; and imagining my sort of books did not suit her, I bid her place herself in the choice of what she perused. She selected one of her own favourites, and got forward steadily about an hour; then came frequent questions.
`Ellen, are not you tired? Hadn't you better lie down now? You'll be sick, keeping up so long, Ellen.'
`No, no, dear, I'm not tired,' I returned continually.
oil painting
Perceiving me immovable, she essayed another method of showing her disrelish for her occupation. It changed to yawning, and stretching, and:
`Ellen, I'm tired.'
`Give over then and talk,' I answered.
That was worse: she fretted and sighed, and liked at her watch till eight, and finally went to her room, completely overdone with sleep; judging by her peevish, heavy look, and the constant rubbing she