Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

She's not set so much as a foot in his studio from that day to this.
I want to see this painting.
No, Cornelia, not my pearls.
We both did.
Put a mattress in the attic for Griet.
He's painted me.
Look at me.
Find a way.
I'll be in my studio until dinner.
Considered? It's already in hand. Didn't I tell you?
No stinting, eh?
This is Griet, the new maid.
Did you get the lapis?
I'll see you later.
And if I'm to spend tedious hours sitting
It's the old woman's idea to combine the birth feast and the viewing.
On the master's account.
He's no fool, mind you.
No, no, stop it, stop it. My God, woman, you could sell sour milk to cows.
Jan?
My mother will expect me home.
And the wine winkling through the glass.
A picture made of light.
You're not paid to stand gawping all day.
You've heard?
Oh, not with Emilie
she cannot abide the smell when she's with child.
She knows where you are, Griet.
There.
Art.
I'll put it in the book, then. Owed by Griet...
No.
He won't even let me see it.
Come on, keep up.
"Thinking about your butcher boy?"
I won't turn out for small beer and biscuits, tell her.
No, we are drawing.
Johannes, that's it.
Do you know the house of Master Vermeer?
Ah, you girl, Griet.
- You shouldn't believe gossip. - Oh, I don't.
Water for the table.
She'll fetch the meat now.
An he won't be taken for one, so don't think otherwise.
You do it.
You'll have to wait then.