claude monet paintings

call them handsome- they were too pale and grave for the word: as they
each bent over a book, they looked thoughtful almost to severity. A
stand between them supported a second candle and two great volumes, to
which they frequently referred, comparing them, seemingly, with the
smaller books they held in their hands, like people consulting a
dictionary to aid them in the task of translation. This scene was as
silent as if all the figures had been shadows and the firelit
apartment a picture: so hushed was it, I could hear the cinders fall
from the grate, the clock tick in its obscure corner; and I even
fancied I could distinguish the click-click of the woman's
-needles. When, therefore, a voice broke the strange stillness
at last, it was audible enough to me.
'Listen, Diana,' said one of the absorbed students; 'Franz and
old Daniel are together in the night-time, and Franz is telling a
dream from which he has awakened in terror- listen!' And in a low
voice she read something, of which not one word was intelligible to
me; for it was in an unknown tongue- neith