Was it true, possibly, when a flaming sunset struck a sword across the Square and caught the fountain, slashing it into a million glittering fragments, that that was all that occurred?
Such a thing had been for Barbara simply a door into her earlier world.

See the fountain--well, you have been tested; you are still simple enough to go back into the real world.

But was Barbara simple enough?
She was seven; it is just about then that we begin, under the guard of nurses carefully chosen for us by our parents, to drop our simplicity.

It must, of course, be so, or the world would be all dreamers, and then there would be no commerce.
Barbara knew nothing of commerce, but she did know that she was unhappy, that her dolls gave her no happiness, and that her Friend did not come now so often to see her.

She was, I am afraid, in character a "Hopper." She must be affectionate, she must demand affection of others, and will they not give it her, then must they simulate it.