He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. "He'll learn that his plans will be defeated. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning.
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