From the globe on the right to the globe on the
left, and back again, a golden shuttle, in which two flaming eyes were
set, was shot continually, and I knew also that this was the shuttle of
Destiny, weaving the web of Fate. Presently the shuttle flew, leaving
behind it a long silver thread, and the eyes in the shuttle were such as
your eyes. Again the shuttle sped through space, and this time its eyes
were like my eyes, and the thread it left behind it was twisted from a
woman's hair. Half way between the globes of Life and Death my thread
was broken, but the shuttle flew on and vanished. For a moment the
thread hung in air, then a wind rose and blew it, so that it floated
away like a spider's web, till it struck upon your silver thread of life
and began to twist round and round it. As it twisted it grew larger and
heavier, till at last it was thick as a great tress of hair, and the
silver line bent beneath the weight so that I saw it soon must break.
Then while I wondered what would happen, a white hand holding a knife
slid slowly down the silver line, and with the knife severed the
wrappings of woman's hair, which fell and floated slowly away, like a
little cloud touched with sunlight, till they were lost in darkness.
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