later months of her pregnancy beginning, was strange and detached, Brangwen began to knit his brows, the old, unhealthy uneasiness, the unskinned susceptibility came on the child again. If she went to the fields with her father, then, instead of playing about carelessly, it was:

“I want to go home.”

“Home, why tha's nobbut this minute come.”

“I want to go home.”

“What for? What ails thee?”

“I want my mother.”

“Thy mother!

Thy mother none wants thee.”

“I want to go home.”