| Monsiamoi was tired. It wasn't so much that she was physically tired, although she certainly was. She was tired of the daily drudgery, of the monotonous cycle of cleaning, of seeing nothing but the same thing every day, even if it was a mansion. Her Uncle Jean had got her the job as a maid in a time when jobs were scarce. And she was grateful to him. Part of the reason she stayed was because of her uncle who did virtually all the outside work on the estate. It was because of him that Vallotton looked so beautiful as you entered the gate. Of course, the mansion was magnificent inside too. She remembered the first time she had visited Vallotton as a child. The black iron gates with the stylized V opened to drive around the fountains and statuary. Uncle Jean showed her the topiary work he did with the shrubs. To a ten-year-old, it looked like Versailles. Inside the mansion, there was beautiful artwork, paintings and tapestries. She loved the sweep of the grand st...
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