And will go bring her in out of the cold.
[He opens the door. A CHILD dressed in pale green and with red-gold hair comes into the house.
THE CHILD.
I tire of winds and waters and pale lights!
MAURTEEN BRUIN.
You are most welcome. It is cold out there;
Who’d think to face such cold on a May Eve?
THE CHILD.
And when I tire of this warm little house
There is one here who must away, away,