‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. Already Cosette was her chosen friend. "What I said about natural children doesn't apply to you. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. The flight.
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