Girl With a Pearl Earring PDF/EPUB ´ With a Pearl

Girl With a Pearl Earring PDF/EPUB ´ With a Pearl

[Reading] ➿ Girl With a Pearl Earring By Tracy Chevalier – Business-books.co The Dutch painter Vermeer has remained one of the great enigmas of th century Dutch art Whilst little is known of his personal life his extraordinary paintings of natural and domestic life with theirThe Dutch painter Vermeer has remained one of the great enigmas of th century Dutch art Whilst little is known of his personal life his extraordinary paintings of natural and domestic life with their subtle play of light and colour have come to define the Dutch Golden Age The mysterious portrait of the anonymous Girl with a Pearl Earring has fascinated art historians for centuries and it is this magnetic painting that lies at the heart of Tracy Chevalier s second novel of the same title Girl with a Pearl Earring centres on Vermeer s prosperous household in Delft in the s The appointment of the uiet perceptive heroine of the novel the servant Griet gradually throws the household into turmoil as Vermeer and Griet become increasingly intimate an increasingly tense situation that culminates in her working for Vermeer as his assistant and ultimately sitting for him as a model Chevalier deliberately cultivates a limpid painstakingly observed style in homage to Vermeer and the complex domestic tensions of the Vermeer household are vividly evoked from the jealous vain young wife to the wise taciturn mother in law At times the relationship between servant and master seems a little anachronistic but Girl with a Pearl Earring does contain a final delicious twist in its tail Chevalier acknowledges her debt to Simon Schama s classic study of the Dutch Golden Age The Embarrassment of Riches and the novel comes hard on the heels of Deborah Moggach s similar tale of domestic intrigue behind the easel of th century Dutch painting Tulip Fever Girl with a Pearl Earring is a fascinating piece of speculative historical fiction but how muchcan novelists extract from the Dutch Golden Age Jerry Brotton AUTHORBIO Tracy Chevalier grew up in Washington DC She moved to England inand worked for several years as a reference book editor In she graduated from the MA course in creative writing at the University of East Anglia Her first novel The Virgin Blue was chosen by WH Smith for its Fresh Talent promotion in She lives in London with her husband and sonMy mother did not tell me they were coming Afterwards she said she did not want me to appear nervous I was surprised for I thought she knew me well Strangers would think I was calm I did not cry as a baby Only my mother would note the tightness along my jaw the widening of my already wide eyesI was chopping vegetables in the kitchen when I heard voices outside our front doora womans bright as polished brass and a mans low and dark like the wood of the table I was working on They were the kind of voices we heard rarely in our house I could hear rich carpets in their voices books and pearls and furI was glad that earlier I had scrubbed the front steps so hardMy mothers voicea cooking pot a flagonapproached from the front room They were coming to the kitchen I pushed the leeks I had been chopping into place then set the knife on the table wiped my hands on my apron and pressed my lips together to smooth themMy mother appeared in the doorway her eyes two warnings Behind her the woman had to duck her head because she was so tall taller than the man following herAll of our family even my father and brother were smallThe woman looked as if she had been blown about by the wind although it was a calm day Her cap was askew so that tiny blond curls escaped and hung about her forehead like bees which she swatted at impatiently several times Her collar needed straightening and was not as crisp as it could be She pushed her gray mantle back from her shoulders and I saw then that under her dark blue dress a baby was growing It would arrive by the years end or beforeThe womans face was like an oval serving plate flashing at times dull at others Her eyes were two light brown buttons a color I had rarely seen coupled with blond hair She made a show of watching me hard but could not fix her attention on me her eyes darting about the roomThis is the girl then she said abruptlyThis is my daughter Griet my mother replied I nodded respectfully to the man and womanWell Shes not very big Is she strong enough As the woman turned to look at the man a fold of her mantle caught the handle of the knife I had been using knocking it off the table so that it spun across the floorThe woman cried outCatharina the man said calmly He spoke her name as if he held cinnamon in his mouth The woman stopped making an effort to uiet herselfI stepped over and picked up the knife polishing the blade on my apron before placing it back on the table The knife had brushed against the vegetables I set a piece of carrot back in its placeThe man was watching me his eyes grey like the sea He had a long angular face and his expression was steady in contrast to his wifes which flickered like a candle He had no beard or moustache and I was glad for it gave him a clean appearance He wore a black cloak over his shoulders a white shirt and a fine lace collar His hat pressed into hair the red of brick washed by rainWhat have you been doing here Griet he askedI was surprised by the uestion but knew enough to hide it Chopping vegetables sir For the soupI always laid vegetables out in a circle each with its own section like a slice of pie There were five slices red cabbage onions leeks carrots and turnips I had used a knife edge to shape each slice and placed a carrot disc in the centerThe man tapped his finger on the table Are they laid out in the order in which they will go into the soup he suggested studying the circleNo sir I hesitated I could not say why I had laid out the vegetables as I did I simply set them as I felt they should be but I was too frightened to say so to a gentlemanI see you have separated the whites he said indicating the turnips and onions And then the orange and the purple they do not sit together Why is that He picked up a shred of cabbage and a piece of carrot and shook them like dice in his handI looked at my mother who nodded slightlyThe colors fight when they are side by side sirHe arched his eyebrows as if he had not expected such a response And do you spend much time setting out the vegetables before you make the soup Oh no sir I replied confused I did not want him to think I was idleFrom the corner of my eye I saw a movement My sister Agnes was peering round the doorpost and had shaken her head at my response I did not often lie I looked downThe man turned his head slightly and Agnes disappeared He dropped the pieces of carrot and cabbage into their slices The cabbage shred fell partly into the onions I wanted to reach over and tease it into place I did not but he knew that I wanted to He was testing meThats enough prattle the woman declared Though she was annoyed with his attention to me it was me she frowned at Tomorrow then She looked at the man before sweeping out of the room my mother behind her The man glanced onceat what was to be the soup then nodded at me and followed the womenWhen my mother returned I was sitting by the vegetable wheel I waited for her to speak She was hunching her shoulders as if against a winter chill though it was summer and the kitchen was hotYou are to start tomorrow as their maid If you do well you will be paid eight stuivers a day You will live with themI pressed my lips togetherDont look at me like that Griet my mother said We have to now your father has lost his tradeWhere do they live On the Oude Langendijck where it intersects with the MolenpoortPapists corner Theyre Catholic You can come home Sundays They have agreed to that My mother cupped her hands around the turnips scooped them up along with some of the cabbage and onions and dropped them into the pot of water waiting on the fire The pie slices I had made so carefully were ruinedI climbed the stairs to see my father He was sitting at the front of the attic by the window where the light touched his face It was the closest he came now to seeingFather had been a tile painter his fingers still stained blue from painting cupids maids soldiers ships children fish flowers animals onto white tiles glazing them firing them selling them One day the kiln exploded taking his eyes and his trade He was the lucky onetwo other men diedI sat next to him and held his handI heard he said before I could speak I heard everything His hearing had taken the strength from his missing eyesI could not think of anything to say that would not sound reproachfulIm sorry Griet I would like to have done better for you The place where his eyes had been where the doctor had sewn shut the skin looked sorrowful But he is a good gentleman and fair He will treat you well He said nothing about the womanHow can you be sure of this Father Do you know him Dont you know who he is NoDo you remember the painting we saw in the Town Hall a few years ago which van Ruijven was displaying after he bought it It was a view of Delft from the Rotterdam and Schiedam Gates With the sky that took up so much of the painting and the sunlight on some of the buildingsAnd the paint had sand in it to make the brickwork and the roofs look rough I added And there were long shadows in the water and tiny people on the shore nearest usThats the one Fathers sockets widened as if he still had eyes and was looking at the painting againI remembered it well remembered thinking that I had stood at the very spot many times and never seen Delft the way the painter hadThat man was van Ruijven The patron Father chuckled No no child not him That was the painter Vermeer That was Johannes Vermeer and his wife Youre to clean his studioTo the few things I was taking with me my mother added another cap collar and apron so that each day I could wash one and wear the other and would always look clean She also gave me an ornamental tortoiseshell comb shaped like a shell that had been my grandmothers and was too fine for a maid to wear and a prayer book I could read when I needed to escape the Catholicism around meAs we gathered my things she explained why I was to work for the Vermeers You know that your new master is headman of the Guild of St Luke and was when your father had his accident last year I nodded still shocked that I was to work for such an artistThe Guild looks after its own as best it can Remember the box your father gave money to every week for years That money goes to masters in need as we are now But it goes only so far you see especially now with Frans in his apprenticeship and no money coming in We have no choice We wont take public charity not if we can manage without Then your father heard that your new master was looking for a maid who could clean his studio without moving anything and he put forward your name thinking that as headman and knowing our circumstances Vermeer would be likely to try to helpI sifted through what she had said How do you clean a room without moving anything Of course you must move things but you must find a way to put them back exactly so it looks as if nothing has been disturbed As you do for your father now that he cannot seeAfter my fathers accident we had learned to place things where he always knew to find them It was one thing to do this for a blind man though uite another for a man with a painters eyesAgnes said nothing to me after the visit When I got into bed next to her that night she remained silent though she did not turn her back to me She lay gazing at the ceiling Once I had blown out the candle it was so dark I could see nothing I turned towards herYou know I dont want to leave I have toSilenceWe need the money We have nothing now that Father cant workEight stuivers a day isnt such a lot of money Agnes had a hoarse voice as if her throat were covered with cobwebsIt will keep the family in bread And a bit of cheese Thats not so littleIll be all alone Youre leaving me all alone First Frans then youOf all of us Agnes had been the most upset when Frans left the previous year He and she had always fought like cats but she sulked for days once he was gone At ten she was the youngest of us three children and had never before known a time when Frans and I were not thereMother and Father will still be here And Ill visit on Sundays Besides it was no surprise when Frans went We had known for years that our bro.

girl free with free pearl free earring kindle Girl With kindle a Pearl pdf With a Pearl free Girl With a Pearl Earring PDF/EPUBTher would start his apprenticeship when he turned thirteen Our father had saved hard to pay the apprentice fee and talked endlessly of how Frans would learn another aspect of the trade then come back and they would set up a tile factory togetherNow our father sat by the window and never spoke of the futureAfter the accident Frans had come home for two days He had not visited since The last time I saw him I had gone to the factory across town where he was apprenticed He looked exhausted and had burns up and down his arms from pulling tiles from the kiln He told me he worked from dawn until so late that at times he was too tired even to eat Father never told me it would be this bad he muttered resentfully He always said his apprenticeship was the making of himPerhaps it was I replied It made him what he is nowWhen I was ready to leave the next morning my father shuffled out to the front step feeling his way along the wall I hugged my mother and Agnes Sunday will come in no time my mother saidMy father handed me something wrapped in a handkerchief To remind you of home he said Of usIt was my favorite tile of his Most of his tiles we had at home were faulty in some waychipped or cut crookedly or the picture was blurred because the kiln had been too hot This one though my father kept specially for us It was a simple picture of two small figures a boy and an older girl They were not playing as children usually did in tiles They were simply walking along and were like Frans and me whenever we walked togetherclearly our father had thought of us as he painted it The boy was a little ahead of the girl but had turned back to say something His face was mischievous his hair messy The girl wore her cap as I wore mine not as most other girls did with the ends tied under their chins or behind their necks I favored a white cap that folded in a wide brim around my face covering my hair completely and hanging down in points on each side of my face so that from the side my expression was hidden I kept the cap stiff by boiling it with potato peelingsI walked away from our house carrying my things tied up in an apron It was still earlyour neighbors were throwing buckets of water onto their steps and the street in front of their houses and scrubbing them clean Agnes would do that now as well as many of my other tasks She would have less time to play in the street and along the canals Her life was changing tooPeople nodded at me and watched curiously as I passed No one asked where I was going or called out kind words They did not need tothey knew what happened to families when a man lost his trade It would be something to discuss lateryoung Griet become a maid her father brought the family low They would not gloat however The same thing could easily happen to themI had walked along that street all my life but had never been so aware that my back was to my home When I reached the end and turned out of sight of my family though it became a little easier to walk steadily and look around me The morning was still cool the sky a flat grey white pulled close over Delft like a sheet the summer sun not yet high enough to burn it away The canal I walked along was a mirror of white light tinged with green As the sun grew brighter the canal would darken to the color of mossFrans Agnes and I used to sit along that canal and throw things inpebbles sticks once a broken tileand imagine what they might touch on the bottomnot fish but creatures from our imagination with many eyes scales hands and fins Frans thought up the most interesting monsters Agnes was the most frightened I always stopped the game too inclined to see things as they were to be able to think up things that were notThere were a few boats on the canal moving towards Market Suare It was not market day however when the canal was so full you couldnt see the water One boat was carrying river fish for the stalls at Jeronymous Bridge Another sat low on the water loaded with bricks The man poling the boat called out a greeting to me I merely nodded and lowered my head so that the edge of my cap hid my faceI crossed a bridge over the canal and turned into the open space of Market Suare even then busy with people crisscrossing it on their way to some taskbuying meat at the Meat Hall or bread at the bakers taking wood to be weighed at the Weigh House Children ran errands for their parents apprentices for their masters maids for their households Horses and carts clattered across the stones To my right was the Town Hall with its gilded front and white marble faces gazing down from the keystones above the windows To my left was the New Church where I had been baptized sixteen years before Its tall narrow tower made me think of a stone birdcage Father had taken us up it once I would never forget the sight of Delft spread below us each narrow brick house and steep red roof and green waterway and city gate marked forever in my mind tiny and yet distinct I asked my father then if every Dutch city looked like that but he did not know He had never visited any other city not even The Hague two hours away on footI walked to the center of the suare There the stones had been laid to form an eight pointed star set inside a circle Each point aimed towards a different part of Delft I thought of it as the very center of the town and as the center of my life Frans and Agnes and I had played in that star since we were old enough to run to the market In our favorite game one of us chose a point and one of us named a thinga stork a church a wheelbarrow a flowerand we ran in that direction looking for that thing We had explored most of Delft that wayOne point however we had never followed I had never gone to Papists Corner where the Catholics lived The house where I was to work was just ten minutes from home the time it took a pot of water to boil but I had never passed by itI knew no Catholics There were not so many in Delft and none in our street or in the shops we used It was not that we avoided them but they kept to themselves They were tolerated in Delft but were expected not to parade their faith openly They held their services privately in modest places that did not look like churches from the outsideMy father had worked with Catholics and told me they were no different from us If anything they were less solemn They liked to eat and drink and sing and game He said this almost as if he envied themI followed that point of the star now walking across the suareslowly than everyone else for I was reluctant to leave its familiarity I crossed the bridge over the canal and turned left up the Oude Langendijck On my left the canal ran parallel to the street separating it from Market SuareAt the intersection with the Molenpoort four girls were sitting on a bench beside an open door of a house They were arranged in order of size from the oldest who looked to be about Agnes age to the youngest who was probably about four One of the middle girls held a baby in her lapa large baby who was probably already crawling and would soon be ready to walkFive children I thought And another expectedThe oldest was blowing bubbles through a scallop shell fixed to the end of a hollowed stick very like one my father had made for us The others were jumping up and popping the bubbles as they appeared The girl with the baby in her lap could not move much catching few bubbles although she was seated next to the bubble blower The youngest at the end was the furthest away and the smallest and had no chance to reach the bubbles The second youngest was the uickest darting after the bubbles and clapping her hands around them She had the brightest hair of the four red like the dry brick wall behind her The youngest and the girl with the baby both had curly blond hair like their mothers while the eldests was the same dark red as her fathersI watched the girl with the bright hair swat at the bubbles popping them just before they broke on the damp grey and white tiles set diagonally in rows before the house She will be a handful I thought Youd best pop them before they reach the ground I said Else those tiles will have to be scrubbed againThe eldest girl lowered the pipe Four sets of eyes stared at me with the same gaze that left no doubt they were sisters I could see various features of their parents in themgrey eyes here light brown eyes there angular faces impatient movementsAre you the new maid the eldest askedWe were told to watch out for you the bright redhead interrupted before I could replyCornelia go and get Tanneke the eldest said to herYou go Aleydis Cornelia in turn ordered the youngest who gazed at me with wide grey eyes but did not move Ill go The eldest must have decided my arrival was important after allNo Ill go Cornelia jumped up and ran ahead of her older sister leaving me alone with the two uieter girlsI looked at the suirming baby in the girls lap Is that your brother or your sister Brother the girl replied in a soft voice like a feather pillow His name is Johannes Never call him Jan She said the last words as if they were a familiar refrainI see And your name Lisbeth And this is Aleydis The youngest smiled at me They were both dressed neatly in brown dresses with white aprons and capsAnd your older sister Maertge Never call her Maria Our grandmothers name is Maria Maria Thins This is her houseThe baby began to whimper Lisbeth joggled him up and down on her kneeI looked up at the house It was certainly grander than ours but not as grand as I had feared It had two stories plus an attic whereas ours had only the one with a tiny attic It was an end house with the Molenpoort running down one side so that it was a little wider than the other houses in the street It felt less pressed in than many of the houses in Delft which were packed together in narrow rows of brick along the canals their chimneys and stepped roofs reflected in the green canal water The ground floor windows of this house were very high and on the first floor there were three windows set close together rather than the two of other houses along the streetFrom the front of the house the New Church tower was visible just across the canal A strange view for a Catholic family I thought A church they will never even go insideSo youre the maid are you I heard behind meThe woman standing in the doorway had a broad face pockmarked from an earlier illness Her nose was bulbous and irregular and her thick lips were pushed together to form a small mouth Her eyes were light blue as if she had caught the sky in them She wore a grey brown dress with a white chemise a cap tied tight around her head and an apron that was not as clean as mine She stood blocking the doorway so that Maertge and Cornelia had to push their way out round her and looked at me with crossed arms as if waiting for a challengeAlready she feels threatened by me I thought She will bully me if I let herMy name is Griet I said gazing at her levelly I am the new maidThe woman shifted from one hip to the other Youd best come in then she said after a moment She moved back into the shadowy interior so that the doorway was clearI stepped across the thresholdWhat I always remembered about being in the front hall for the first time were the paintings I stopped inside the door clutching my bundle and stared I had seen paintings before but never so many in one room I counted eleven The largest painting was of two men almost naked wrestling each other I did not recognize it as a story from the Bible and wondered if it was a Catholic subject Other paintings were offamiliar thingspiles of fruit landscapes ships on the sea portraits They seemed to be by several painters I wondered which of them were my new masters None was what I had expected of himLater I discovered they were all by other paintershe rarely kept his own finished paintings in the house He was an art dealer as well as an artist and paintings hung in almost every room even where I slept There werethan fifty in all though the number varied over time as he traded and sold themCome now no need to idle and gape The woman hurried down a lengthy hallway which ran along one side of the house all the way to the back I fo.


Ther would start his apprenticeship when he turned thirteen Our father had saved hard to pay the apprentice fee and talked endlessly of how Frans would learn another aspect of the trade then come back and they would set up a tile factory togetherNow our father sat by the window and never spoke of the futureAfter the accident Frans had come home for two days He had not visited since The last time I saw him I had gone to the factory across town where he was apprenticed He looked exhausted and had burns up and down his arms from pulling tiles from the kiln He told me he worked from dawn until so late that at times he was too tired even to eat Father never told me it would be this bad he muttered resentfully He always said his apprenticeship was the making of himPerhaps it was I replied It made him what he is nowWhen I was ready to leave the next morning my father shuffled out to the front step feeling his way along the wall I hugged my mother and Agnes Sunday will come in no time my mother saidMy father handed me something wrapped in a handkerchief To remind you of home he said Of usIt was my favorite tile of his Most of his tiles we had at home were faulty in some waychipped or cut crookedly or the picture was blurred because the kiln had been too hot This one though my father kept specially for us It was a simple picture of two small figures a boy and an older girl They were not playing as children usually did in tiles They were simply walking along and were like Frans and me whenever we walked togetherclearly our father had thought of us as he painted it The boy was a little ahead of the girl but had turned back to say something His face was mischievous his hair messy The girl wore her cap as I wore mine not as most other girls did with the ends tied under their chins or behind their necks I favored a white cap that folded in a wide brim around my face covering my hair completely and hanging down in points on each side of my face so that from the side my expression was hidden I kept the cap stiff by boiling it with potato peelingsI walked away from our house carrying my things tied up in an apron It was still earlyour neighbors were throwing buckets of water onto their steps and the street in front of their houses and scrubbing them clean Agnes would do that now as well as many of my other tasks She would have less time to play in the street and along the canals Her life was changing tooPeople nodded at me and watched curiously as I passed No one asked where I was going or called out kind words They did not need tothey knew what happened to families when a man lost his trade It would be something to discuss lateryoung Griet become a maid her father brought the family low They would not gloat however The same thing could easily happen to themI had walked along that street all my life but had never been so aware that my back was to my home When I reached the end and turned out of sight of my family though it became a little easier to walk steadily and look around me The morning was still cool the sky a flat grey white pulled close over Delft like a sheet the summer sun not yet high enough to burn it away The canal I walked along was a mirror of white light tinged with green As the sun grew brighter the canal would darken to the color of mossFrans Agnes and I used to sit along that canal and throw things inpebbles sticks once a broken tileand imagine what they might touch on the bottomnot fish but creatures from our imagination with many eyes scales hands and fins Frans thought up the most interesting monsters Agnes was the most frightened I always stopped the game too inclined to see things as they were to be able to think up things that were notThere were a few boats on the canal moving towards Market Suare It was not market day however when the canal was so full you couldnt see the water One boat was carrying river fish for the stalls at Jeronymous Bridge Another sat low on the water loaded with bricks The man poling the boat called out a greeting to me I merely nodded and lowered my head so that the edge of my cap hid my faceI crossed a bridge over the canal and turned into the open space of Market Suare even then busy with people crisscrossing it on their way to some taskbuying meat at the Meat Hall or bread at the bakers taking wood to be weighed at the Weigh House Children ran errands for their parents apprentices for their masters maids for their households Horses and carts clattered across the stones To my right was the Town Hall with its gilded front and white marble faces gazing down from the keystones above the windows To my left was the New Church where I had been baptized sixteen years before Its tall narrow tower made me think of a stone birdcage Father had taken us up it once I would never forget the sight of Delft spread below us each narrow brick house and steep red roof and green waterway and city gate marked forever in my mind tiny and yet distinct I asked my father then if every Dutch city looked like that but he did not know He had never visited any other city not even The Hague two hours away on footI walked to the center of the suare There the stones had been laid to form an eight pointed star set inside a circle Each point aimed towards a different part of Delft I thought of it as the very center of the town and as the center of my life Frans and Agnes and I had played in that star since we were old enough to run to the market In our favorite game one of us chose a point and one of us named a thinga stork a church a wheelbarrow a flowerand we ran in that direction looking for that thing We had explored most of Delft that wayOne point however we had never followed I had never gone to Papists Corner where the Catholics lived The house where I was to work was just ten minutes from home the time it took a pot of water to boil but I had never passed by itI knew no Catholics There were not so many in Delft and none in our street or in the shops we used It was not that we avoided them but they kept to themselves They were tolerated in Delft but were expected not to parade their faith openly They held their services privately in modest places that did not look like churches from the outsideMy father had worked with Catholics and told me they were no different from us If anything they were less solemn They liked to eat and drink and sing and game He said this almost as if he envied themI followed that point of the star now walking across the suareslowly than everyone else for I was reluctant to leave its familiarity I crossed the bridge over the canal and turned left up the Oude Langendijck On my left the canal ran parallel to the street separating it from Market SuareAt the intersection with the Molenpoort four girls were sitting on a bench beside an open door of a house They were arranged in order of size from the oldest who looked to be about Agnes age to the youngest who was probably about four One of the middle girls held a baby in her lapa large baby who was probably already crawling and would soon be ready to walkFive children I thought And another expectedThe oldest was blowing bubbles through a scallop shell fixed to the end of a hollowed stick very like one my father had made for us The others were jumping up and popping the bubbles as they appeared The girl with the baby in her lap could not move much catching few bubbles although she was seated next to the bubble blower The youngest at the end was the furthest away and the smallest and had no chance to reach the bubbles The second youngest was the uickest darting after the bubbles and clapping her hands around them She had the brightest hair of the four red like the dry brick wall behind her The youngest and the girl with the baby both had curly blond hair like their mothers while the eldests was the same dark red as her fathersI watched the girl with the bright hair swat at the bubbles popping them just before they broke on the damp grey and white tiles set diagonally in rows before the house She will be a handful I thought Youd best pop them before they reach the ground I said Else those tiles will have to be scrubbed againThe eldest girl lowered the pipe Four sets of eyes stared at me with the same gaze that left no doubt they were sisters I could see various features of their parents in themgrey eyes here light brown eyes there angular faces impatient movementsAre you the new maid the eldest askedWe were told to watch out for you the bright redhead interrupted before I could replyCornelia go and get Tanneke the eldest said to herYou go Aleydis Cornelia in turn ordered the youngest who gazed at me with wide grey eyes but did not move Ill go The eldest must have decided my arrival was important after allNo Ill go Cornelia jumped up and ran ahead of her older sister leaving me alone with the two uieter girlsI looked at the suirming baby in the girls lap Is that your brother or your sister Brother the girl replied in a soft voice like a feather pillow His name is Johannes Never call him Jan She said the last words as if they were a familiar refrainI see And your name Lisbeth And this is Aleydis The youngest smiled at me They were both dressed neatly in brown dresses with white aprons and capsAnd your older sister Maertge Never call her Maria Our grandmothers name is Maria Maria Thins This is her houseThe baby began to whimper Lisbeth joggled him up and down on her kneeI looked up at the house It was certainly grander than ours but not as grand as I had feared It had two stories plus an attic whereas ours had only the one with a tiny attic It was an end house with the Molenpoort running down one side so that it was a little wider than the other houses in the street It felt less pressed in than many of the houses in Delft which were packed together in narrow rows of brick along the canals their chimneys and stepped roofs reflected in the green canal water The ground floor windows of this house were very high and on the first floor there were three windows set close together rather than the two of other houses along the streetFrom the front of the house the New Church tower was visible just across the canal A strange view for a Catholic family I thought A church they will never even go insideSo youre the maid are you I heard behind meThe woman standing in the doorway had a broad face pockmarked from an earlier illness Her nose was bulbous and irregular and her thick lips were pushed together to form a small mouth Her eyes were light blue as if she had caught the sky in them She wore a grey brown dress with a white chemise a cap tied tight around her head and an apron that was not as clean as mine She stood blocking the doorway so that Maertge and Cornelia had to push their way out round her and looked at me with crossed arms as if waiting for a challengeAlready she feels threatened by me I thought She will bully me if I let herMy name is Griet I said gazing at her levelly I am the new maidThe woman shifted from one hip to the other Youd best come in then she said after a moment She moved back into the shadowy interior so that the doorway was clearI stepped across the thresholdWhat I always remembered about being in the front hall for the first time were the paintings I stopped inside the door clutching my bundle and stared I had seen paintings before but never so many in one room I counted eleven The largest painting was of two men almost naked wrestling each other I did not recognize it as a story from the Bible and wondered if it was a Catholic subject Other paintings were offamiliar thingspiles of fruit landscapes ships on the sea portraits They seemed to be by several painters I wondered which of them were my new masters None was what I had expected of himLater I discovered they were all by other paintershe rarely kept his own finished paintings in the house He was an art dealer as well as an artist and paintings hung in almost every room even where I slept There werethan fifty in all though the number varied over time as he traded and sold themCome now no need to idle and gape The woman hurried down a lengthy hallway which ran along one side of the house all the way to the back I fo.

Girl With a Pearl Earring PDF/EPUB ´ With a Pearl

Girl With a Pearl Earring PDF/EPUB ´ With a Pearl Is a well known author some of his books are a fascination for readers like in the Girl With a Pearl Earring book this is one of the most wanted Tracy Chevalier author readers around the world

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