“John, don’t!” she cried. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. 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. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. ” Anna was bewildered.
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