Lynn’s eyes grew round and solemn, as they always did when she was delivering herself of a “song.” She stared hard at the shuttered house.
“Call it ‘The Very Sad House,’” she said.
“‘The Very Sad House,’” wrote Pauline obediently.
[p25]
“No, cross that out,” said Lynn; “I remember I thought of a better name. It’s called ‘Forsaked.’”
Pauline grumbled at this. “You mustn’t alter any more,” she said; “even writing very small I can’t get much in.”
“Well,” said Lynn, “write this down.” And she dictated slowly. And slowly and a little painfully, for the space was cramped, Pauline wrote:—
“‘Silent and sad it wates by the road,
And it’s eyes are shut with tears.
Oh, Tenby, my heart is so greavous for you,
You haven’t woked up for years.