The servant dried Emily’s feet. She sat on the sofa and surrounded by paintings from Van Gogh, Da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo, David, Angel, Rubens and some other masters.
She sat there quietly and watched. The bright light was scattered and shone on her hair and shoulders. Her fair fingertips caressed the paper as if she was part of the painting. The scene was so peaceful that no one had the heart to disturb.
Without disturbance to her, Maury and Eliot left her alone. They would turn around every step they took. Maury sighed with emotion, "Emily has grown up into a beautiful woman."
'She is always very beautiful.' Eliot thought in his heart.
When Emily was taken into this family at seven, she was timid and terrified like an abandoned kitten. She didn't even know how to call for help. She would just curl up while hiding under the quilt on her bed. She was afraid of meeting people, and she wouldn't eat or talk.
