“I want to be a Person,” said Ann Veronica to the downs and the open sky; “I will not have this happen to me, whatever else may happen in its place. Such pretty manners, she thought. ” “It gives in a nutshell the miracle of art and the imagination. ” She groaned aloud and bowed her forehead to her knees. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals.
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