|Peonies, William Merritt Chase, 1897|
Completely aware of what the contents in her bag could lead to she sat with poise at the corner of his fully packed visitors’ room; it could backfire and end as another amusing affair for the public.
“Both their lives were about to undergo a drastic change, but then he deserved it after what he had done to her mother years ago; money was not everything though they had enough provided by him but what about identity,” She thought.
As she sat, looking at the peonies, the fallen petals caught her attention, they no longer belonged to the bouquet that they adorned once and the ripples in that water stirred the essence of the lake but then it added a charm to its otherwise stagnant existence.
As she sat deeply engrossed in her own world, the secretary informed her that her master was ready to meet her, bringing her back to reality.
As if woken from a deep sleep she excused herself to use the washroom where she tore the paper into shreds and walking off in the direction opposite to his room.