famous jesus painting

Mr. Murdstone took no heed of me when I went into the parlour where he was, but sat by the fireside, weeping silently, and pondering in his elbow-chair. Miss Murdstone, who was busy at her writing-desk, which was covered with letters and papers, gave me her cold finger-nails, and asked me, in an iron whisper, if I had been measured for my mourning.
¡¡¡¡I said: 'Yes.' ¡¡¡¡'And your shirts,' said Miss Murdstone; 'have you brought 'em home?' ¡¡¡¡'Yes, ma'am. I have brought home all my clothes.' ¡¡¡¡This was all the consolation that her firmness administered to me. I do not doubt that she had a choice pleasure in exhibiting what she called her self-command, and her firmness, and her strength of mind, and her common sense, and the whole diabolical catalogue of her unamiable qualities, on such an occasion. She was particularly