art deco painting

looked at her earnestly. ¡¡¡¡'When you came away from home at the end of the vacation,' said Mrs. Creakle, after a pause, 'were they all well?' After another pause, 'Was your mama well?' ¡¡¡¡I trembled without distinctly knowing why, and still looked at her earnestly, making no attempt to answer. ¡¡¡¡'Because,' said she, 'I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning your mama is very ill.' ¡¡¡¡A mist rose between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure seemed to move in it for an instant. Then I felt the burning tears run down my face,
steady again. ¡¡¡¡'She is very dangerously ill,' she added. ¡¡¡¡I knew all now. ¡¡¡¡'She is dead.' ¡¡¡¡There was no need to tell me so. I had already broken out into a desolate cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world. She was very kind to me. She kept me there all day, and left me alone sometimes; and I cried, and wore myself to sleep, and awoke and cried again. When I could cry no more, I began to think; and then the oppression on my breast was heaviest, and my grief a dull pain that there was no ease for.