"Not really worth my while," said Arachne. "I told you something has to happen, so why should I bother?"
She began to doodle again. Rapidly, though with a slightly abstracted air, she constructed another small lace mat suitable for the lower-income-bracket trade, and pondered over it for a moment. Presently she said:
"Of course, if it were to be made worth my while …"
"I couldn't afford very much—" began Lydia, with caution.
"Not money," said Arachne. "What on earth would I do with money? But I am a bit overdue for a holiday."
"Holiday?" Lydia repeated, blankly.
"There's a sort of alleviation clause," Arachne explained. "Lots of good curses have them. It's often something like being uncursed by a prince's kiss — you know, something so improbable that it's a real outside chance, but gets the god a reputation for not being such a Shylock after all. Mine is that I'm allowed twenty-four hours' holiday in the year — but I've scarcely ever had it." She paused, doodling an inch or two of lace edging. "You see," she added, "the difficult thing is to find someone willing to change places for twenty-four hours."
"Er — yes, I can see it would be," said Lydia, detachedly.
Arachne put out one foreleg and spun the aquamarine round so that it glittered.
"Someone willing to change places," she repeated.