"I'm not vexed with you, my child--nor with Lootie either. But I don't
want you to say anything more to Lootie about me. If she should ask
you,
you must just be silent. But I do not think she will ask you."
All the time they talked, the old lady kept on spinning.
"You haven't told me yet what I am spinning," she said.
"Because I don't know. It's very pretty stuff."
It was indeed very pretty stuff. There was a good bunch of it on the
distaff attached to the spinning-wheel, and in the moonlight it shone
like--what shall I say it was like? It was not white enough for
silver--yes, it was like silver, but shone gray rather than white, and
glittered only a little. And the thread the old lady drew out from it
was so fine that Irene could hardly see it.
"I am spinning this for you, my child."
"For me! What am I to do with it, please?"
"I will tell you by and by. But first I will tell you what it is. It is
Madhuri Noah
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