by Eduoard Vuillard
"Oh, I do hope Randall will like me."
"I am wearing my fanciest dress and my warmest smile."
"If I don't get married by my next birthday, I will be a nineteen year old spinster."
"Hopefully, he won't take notice of these worn chairs and the dreadful wall coverings." "Ohhh...we used to be so wealthy." - "Focus, focus...",
"Right I think I am ready, I collected the best tea cups, absolutely no cracks or chips and well the silver looks somewhat clean. Good, good!" "This is good."
"Even so, if I usher him straight into the parlour will he think me desperate?" "Well, that maybe better than letting him see the bare bones that was once this house. I am most certain that he wants to marry me regardless of my circumstances, but...ohhhh." Why am I so nervous?"
"This self inflicted torture is ridiculous, but I cannot stop myself. I need to constantly analyze and analyze."
"I must be nervous...yeah that’s it, it’s just nerves...argh!"
"The wait is killing me and I think I have already wrung the life out of this old handkerchief in my lap," "I think I will cancel our appointment and send him away."
"Oh dear, someone’s at the door, it must be him!" " I will have to go through with it now, blimey!"
"Better put on my best face and thank goodness that the lace on this old funeral dress is still in tact."
"Here we go...breathe, breathe..."