ONE:"I'm coming to help you, Reuben. You'll never tackle them rootsesit ?un't everything you can do surelye!"As time wore on, and her hopes were once more roused, she became quite obsessed by the idea of having a girl. She thought of nothing but the little frocks, the ribbons with which she would tie the pretty hair. She pictured the times she and her daughter would have together, the confidences they would exchangefor old Mrs. Backfield grew more and more silent and unreceptive, and her neighbours were not of her mould. They would tell each other everything ... she had dreams of an impossible little pink-and-white girl like a doll, with golden curls and blue eyes and a white muslin frock. In her dreams she would stretch out her arms to this ached-for child, and would wake sobbing, with the tears running down her face.
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ONE:She was afraid of Reuben, she fled before him like a poor little lamb, trembling and bleatingand yet she would sometimes long for the inevitable day when he would grasp her and fling her across his shoulders.
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