Johannes Vermeer The Love letter

Johannes Vermeer The Love letterJohannes Vermeer The ConcertJohannes Vermeer Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window
Death had always wondered why people put flowers on graves. It made no sense to him. The dead had gone beyond the scent of roses, after all. But now . . . it wasn’t that he felt he understood, but at least he felt that there was something there capable of understanding.
In the curtained blackness of Miss Flitworth’s parlour a darker shape moved through the darkness, heading towards thestare and laid it aside. There were some white shoes. Quite impractical for farm wear, he felt. No wonder they’d been packed away. There was more paper; a bundle of letters tied together. He put them on top of the veil. There was never anything to be gained from observing what humans said to one another - language was just there to hide their thoughts.
And then there was, right at the bottom, a smaller box.
He pulled it out and turned it over and over in his hands. three chests on the dresser.Death opened one of the smaller ones. It was full of gold coins. They had an untouched look about them. He tried the other small chest. It was also full of gold.He’d expected something more from Miss Flitworth, although probably not even Bill Door would have known what.He tried the large chest.There was a layer of tissue paper. Under the paper, some white silky thing, some sort of a veil, now yellowed and brittle with age. He gave it an uncomprehending