“So you believe I’ll go back to caring—to being human, as they call it—to having remorse about the past and worries about the future, to being all tangled up in unhappiness again!” he said incredulously.
She laughed, and sang, in a low voice, close to his ear, the lines of a song that went to an old ballad measure:
“Oh, the briary-bush,
That pricks my heart so sore!
If I ever get out of the briary-bush
I’ll never get in any more!”
“You think you won’t, Felix, but you will! People do go back to the briary-bush. You have to learn early, to stay out.... But I’m glad you came to see me while you’re in this mood. You know, you may get over it in an hour or two!”
“Wait and see!”