claude monet paintings

thought I; and an impulse of fury against Reed, Brocklehurst, and
Co. bounded in my pulses at the conviction. I was no Helen Burns.
'Fetch that stool,' said Mr. Brocklehurst, pointing to a very
high one from which a monitor had just risen: it was brought.
'Place the child upon it.'
And I was placed there, by whom I don't know: I was in no condition
to note particulars; I was only aware that they had hoisted me up to
the height of Mr. Brocklehurst's nose, that he was within a yard of
me, and that a spread of shot orange and purple silk pelisses and a
cloud of silvery plumage extended and waved below me.

Mr. Brocklehurst hemmed.
'Ladies,' said he, turning to his family, 'Miss Temple, teachers,
and children, you all see this girl?'
Of course they did; for I felt their eyes directed like
burning-glasses against my scorched skin.
'You see she is yet young; you observe she possesses the ordinary
form of childhood; God has graciously given her the shape that He
has given to all of us; no signal deformity points her out as a marked