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WEAVER Hello ! Brother Som !
SOM Hello, Brother Birju ! has this morning brought you luck ?
WEAVER It has ! it has brought you to me! and you are a friend, one of the rarest friends I have had since childhood. Friendship is luck.
SOM So little of friendship is left now-a-days; and so little of luck, too!
WEAVER No man is a friend even of himself. In fact, every man is his own worst enemy! ( noticing the cloth; the Weaver's
eyes bulge with excitement ) Why man ! what's that glowing on your shoulder ? surely it's not your shoulder that is glowing ! what! what ! my eyes can hardly take the glow in; it is a glow woven of centuries of multi-mated moonbeams !
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