Van Ruijven:
Your master is a fine painter, Griet. The finest in Delft. He's painted me. Perhaps, that will be my epitaph.
[Removes a cloth from the front of a painting]
Van Ruijven:
Look at that dress. You can almost stroke the satin And the wine, winking through the glass. Can you imagine yourself in such finery, Griet? She loved it, you know. Lace and satin pressed tightly against her pump little bobbies. The silk, heavy on her thighs. The gentlemen watching. My God, she was happy.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:36