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"Why do you call yourself a beech-tree?" I said

"Because I a

voice

"You are a woman," I returned

"Do you think so? Am I very like a woman then?"

"You are a very beautiful wolad you think so I fancy I feel like a woht--and alhen the rain drips from my hair For there

is an old prophecy in our woods that one day we shall all beabout it in your region? Shall I

be very happy when I ahts

like these that I feel like one But I long to be a woman for all that"

I had let her talk on, for her voice was like a solution of all musical

sounds I now told her that I could hardly say whether women were happy

or not I knew one who had not been happy; and for ed for the world of , and perhaps people grew happier as they

grew older Only I doubted it

I could not help sighing She felt the sigh, for her arms were still

round me She asked me how old I was