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 grey 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 spider-web - of a particular kind. My pigeons bring it me
from over the great sea. There is only one forest where the
spiders live who make this particular kind - the finest and
strongest of any. I have nearly finished my present job. What is
on the rock now will be enough. I have a week's work there yet,
though,' she added, looking at the bunch.

'Do you work all day and all night, too, great-great-
great-great-grandmother?' said the princess, thinking to be very
polite with so many greats.

'I am not quite so great as all that,' she answered, smiling almost
merrily. 'If you call me grandmother, that will do. No, I don't
work every night - only moonlit nights, and then no longer than the
moon shines upon my wheel. I shan't work much longer tonight.'

'And what will you do next, grandmother?'
'Go to bed. Would you like to see my bedroom?'