Barrie said softly, looking out of the open window at the purple night, purple as heather.
I have read that it is, somewhere—in one of Barrie's yarns, I think.
She was not so tall as Barrie as they stood together, she discovered, and she wanted the girl to sit down.
"I will run down to Mrs. Barrie's," I said, after long thinking.
At the age of eighteen, Mr. Barrie entered Edinburgh University.
I suddenly exclaimed, as we were turning into Mrs. Barrie's house.
He tells us that Barrie is not himself since his nephew was drowned, that he has aged considerably.
We started from Barrie at half-past two, and arrived at half-past five.
Under the lash of Mrs. MacDonald's tongue she would defend herself, and Barrie would go to the wall.
We reached Barrie safely that night, and slept at the Queen's Arms.