Emilie was walking forward, but her face was turned towards the sky. She loved the feel of the rain, the way it made all humans equal to some degree. No one could stop the rain, no matter what their station in life. As she walked, paying little attention to her path, she sang " A woman's face, with Nature's own hand painted, Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted, With shifting change, as is false women's fashion" delightedly.