” “No,” cried Miss Miniver, almost vehemently. She had never had a pet, never had a real doll. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's departure, nor to follow him. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. One doesn’t want to lose a grain. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction.
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