BRITA. You hussy!
KERSTI. You—sister-in-law!
BRITA. Who knows?
KERSTI. Are you telling my fortune, you witch?
BRITA. Yes—a rope!
KERSTI. Should not be mentioned in the house of a hanged man!
BRITA. [Goes to the bag attached to the end of the flour chute] Now I shall tell your fortune! You get the mill, and the grist will be accordingly. [She takes from the bag a handful of black mould out of which she forms a small mound on the floor; then she says]
"Vagrant women
Grind for their men
Meal out of mould
As only food."[1]
KERSTI. A witch you are, indeed!
BRITA. Yes, and one who can find buried treasures! Perhaps you will let me find a little treasure for you?