the fountains were the type that used the same water over and over again, so the girl, whose tears all ran to waste, could hardly compete with them. a human being was scarcely a mach for a reflex fountain; almost certainly, she’d give up and stop crying. then he’d be able somehow to get rid of this unwanted baggage. the only question was whether the fountains would be working as usual in the rain.
“just look at the fountains. look! you can cry as much as you like but you’re no match for them.”