Hai! Hai! Hai!
[Obaa-San enters. She is old, very, very old, and withered and misshapen. There is only laughter in your heart when you look at Obaa-San unless you see her eyes. Then—
OBAA-SAN
My tree! My little tree! Why do you sigh?
THE TREE
Hai! Hai! Hai!
OBAA-SAN
Sometimes I think I pity you. Yes, dear tree!
THE TREE
Hai! Hai! Hai!