And when she has wandered to a secluded place, a mysterious old woman approaches.

Her skirts leave no tracks where they sweep over the dusty cobblestones, and the gnarled wood of her walking-stick gleams a pristine silvery white. Mysterious as anything, she is.

She looks at the young woman and says, "My dear, why are you so..."

Here she pauses, and seems to have a little trouble finishing her sentence.