sent away from London

air-raids

shaggy white hair

so odd-looking that

keep on pretending he was blowing his nose to hide it

said good night to the Professor

go upstairs on the first night

all talked it over

We've fallen on our feet and no mistake

This is going to be perfectly splendid

Peter: That old chap will let us do anything we like.

Susan: I think he's an old dear

Edmund: Oh, come off it.

who was tired and pretending not to be tired.

Don't go on talking like that

Lucy: There's sure to be a row if we're heard talking here.

those long passages and rows of doors leading into empty rooms

make her feel a little creepy.

stags

But when the next morning came there was a steady rain falling, so thick that...

They were upstairs in the room he had set apart for them

a long, low room with two windows looking out in one direction and two in another

Do stop grumbling, Ed.

There's a wireless

It was sort of the house, that you never seem to come to the end of

The first few doors they tried, led only into spare bedrooms

a door that led out onto a balcony

balcony

rooms were lined with books

window-sill

they all trooped out again

stepped into the wardrobe and got in among the coats and rubbed her face against them

leave the door open ... knew it's foolish to shut oneself into any wardrobe.

stretch her arm out in front of her

so as not to bump her face into the back of the wardrobe

always expecting to feel woodwork against --

the tips of fingers

push the soft folds of the coats aside

something crunching under her feet

powdery

something prickly - branches of trees

snowflakes falling through the air

inquisitive

She looked back over her shoulder

the open doorway of

lamp-post

a very strange person stepped out from among the trees

carried over his head an umbrella

waist

glossy

hoofs

His tail is neatly caught up over the arm that held the umbrella

so as to keep it from trailing in the snow

woollen muffler

reddish

brown-paper parcels