Chasing Vermeer: Chapters 17–20

Why did some words seem more elegant, more graceful than others? Why were some words peanut butter and jelly sounds, and others caviar?

Calder blew his nose vigorously.

Mrs. Sharpe’s imperious tone brought everyone to a standstill.

“This is foolproof. We’re going to put the letter in the mail the minute we’ve read it. Mrs. Sharpe will never know, and I’m sure Ms. Hussey will throw away the envelope.”

Just then someone jostled Calder’s arm, and the letter fell.

There was a long, unbearable silence.

Her face straightened. “Very wrong. The point is that you must never read someone else’s correspondence.”

After allowing the children to feel uncomfortable for another few moments, she continued in a brusque tone, “My maiden name, Coffin, is from Nantucket Island, in Massachusetts, and when I read in the papers that Ms. Hussey was from there, I just thought I’d share the coincidence with her. Now. What is this about a dream?”

Mrs. Sharpe’s frigid tone sent Calder back to his seat.

The walls of the room facing the theater were covered with a parade of young people in medieval costumes dancing, playing, and talking with one another in an idyllic country setting.

They crept inside, stepping over frayed curtain ropes, a lute with no strings, a plastic pitcher, and an old broom.

Instead of newel posts at the bottom of the staircase, an intricately carved oak monkey clung to either end of the railing.

The blue shadows of late afternoon were menacing now.

Their suspicions about their neighbor and their teacher suddenly seemed overwrought and childish.

The recently released book, THE VERMEER DILEMMA: WHAT HAPPENS NOW? points to the public’s overwhelming response to my letter and the three advertisements I took out in newspapers around the world.