So, you ask yourself – how can a poor, yet pretty girl . . . 
this is how your thoughts are running are they not . . .
claim as her own such a valuable earring?  
Is it of noble worth . . .    
or could it have been lent to bestow luck but for a brief moment?
Or is it nowt, shining beyond its worth?
A trick . . . a lie, an attempt to use cheap materials to imitate the perfection of the noble pearl . . . 
which carries in its heart the simple grain of sand from which its humble beginnings sprung . . .  
but which it alone has ripened into a perfect precious pearl.
If not closely examined, could it not be . . .
that I am not a hostage of poverty . . .
much more that I, by placing myself in this portrait . . . 
declare myself worthless and that my earring alone announces my true rank? 
Whatsoever the truth . . .
it will never be revealed . . . 
 simply appreciate my picture for what it is . . . 
do not ask questions . . . 
