virgin of the rocks

virgin of the rocks
The Three Ages of Woman
The Virgin and Child with St Anne
Catherine was thinking as she listened: that is, if she thought or listened at all; but she had the vague, distant look I mentioned before, which expressed no recognition of material things either by ear or eye.
`There's a letter for you, Mrs Linton,' I said, gently inserting it in one hand that rested on her knee. `You must read it immediately, because it wants an answer. Shall I break the seal?'
`Yes,' she answered, without altering the direction of her eyes. I opened it--it was very short. `Now', I continued, `read it.' She drew away her hand, and let it fall. I replaced it in her lap, and stood waiting till it should please her to glance down; but that movement was so long delayed that at last I resumed:
oil painting
`Must I read it, ma'am? It is from Mr Heathcliff.'
There was a start and a troubled gleam of recollection, and a struggle to arrange her ideas. She lifted the letter, and seemed to peruse it; and when she came to the signature she sighed: yet still I found she had not gathered its import, for, upon my desiring to hear her reply, she merely pointed to the name, and gazed at me with mournful and questioning eagerness.
`Well, he wishes to see you,' said I, guessing her need of an interpreter. `He's in the garden by this time, and impatient to know what answer I shall bring.'