leonardo da vinci the last supper

leonardo da vinci the last supper
mona lisa painting
mona lisa smile
thomas kinkade gallery
'Well, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield; for I soon found that it was he, and that he was a lawyer, and steward of the estates of a rich gentleman of the county; 'what wind blows you here? Not an ill wind, I hope?' ¡¡¡¡'No,' replied my aunt. 'I have not come for any law.' ¡¡¡¡'That's right, ma'am,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'You had better come for anything else.' His hair was quite white now, though his eyebrows were still black. He had a very agreeable face, and, I thought, was handsome. There
oil painting
was a certain richness in his complexion, which I had been long accustomed, under Peggotty's tuition, to connect with port wine; and I fancied it was in his voice too, and referred his growing corpulency to the same cause. He was very cleanly dressed, in a blue coat, striped waistcoat, and nankeen trousers; and his fine frilled shirt and cambric neckcloth looked unusually soft and white, reminding my strolling fancy (I call to mind) of the plumage on the breast of a swan. ¡¡¡¡'This is my nephew,' said my aunt. ¡¡¡¡'Wasn't aware you had one, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield. ¡¡¡¡'My grand-nephew, that is to say,' observed my aunt.