Unloved, unneeded, and unknown, this ancient crone might as profitably wander in the wilderness as she does these cold and muddy village streets. But her tragedy is not in her ostracism, not in others' neglect, but in her neglect of herself, in her despair, in her thinking exile from society the same as exile from the universe, from divinity, in her inability to sing joyously absent a chorus of strangers to hear.
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