so. You know he brought us that bronze thrush that is singing, that
is in his room. He has only let me see it twice. It's the loveliest
thing I've ever seen. Oh, if I can do anything like that!--I've
worshipped it, I have. It is your best thing?

ANABEL. One of the best.

WINIFRED. It must be. When I see it, with its beak lifted, singing,
something comes loose in my heart, and I feel as if I should cry, and
fly up to heaven. Do you know what I mean? Oh, I'm sure you do, or
you could never have made that thrush. Father is so glad you've come
to show me how to work. He says now I shall have a life-work, and I
shall be happy. It's true, too.

ANABEL. Yes, till the life-work collapses.

WINIFRED. Oh, it can't collapse. I can't believe it could collapse.
Do tell me about something else you made, which you loved--something
you sculpted. Oh, it makes my heart burn to hear you!--Do you think
I might call you Anabel? I should love to. You do call me Winifred
already.

ANABEL. Yes, do.

WINIFRED. Won't you tell me about something else you made--something
lovely?

ANABEL. Well, I did a small kitten--asleep--with its paws crossed.
You know, Winifred, that wonderful look that kittens have, as if they
were blown along like a bit of fluff--as if they weighed nothing at