But just when hope had left her, she met an old tailor. Shaky were his hands, that they no longer weaved fine lines. Aging were his eyes, that he spent hours threading the needles.
But a lonely man with little coin, now. Oh, but she hadn't the spirit to present herself, now.
Hadn't the will to be rejected once more. But that tailor, when he did see her...?
A delighted face did spread.
But a lonely man with little coin, now. Oh, but she hadn't the spirit to present herself, now.
A delighted face did spread.
