While they plied their hands, rubbing and wringing the clothes in the bowls, two other women came to them, each with an empty jar upon her shoulder.
“Peace to you,” one of the new-comers said.
The laborers paused, sat up, wrung the water from their hands, and returned the salutation.
“It is nearly night—time to quit.”
“There is no end to work,” was the reply.
“But there is a time to rest, and—”
“To hear what may be passing,” interposed another.
“What news have you?”
“Then you have not heard?”
“No.”