I said, "They drink it--their own!"

God said, "It comes from this side of the curtain, and they are very
thirsty."

Then the feast went on, and after a while I saw a small, white hand slipped
in below the curtain's edge along the floor; and it motioned towards the
wine jars.

And I said to God, "Why is that hand so bloodless?"

And God said, "It is a wine-pressed hand."

And men saw it and started to their feet; and women cried, and ran to the
great wine jars, and threw their arms around them, and cried, "Ours, our
own, our beloved!" and twined their long hair about them.

I said to God, "Why are they frightened of that one small hand?"

God answered, "Because it is so white."

And men ran in a great company towards the curtain, and struggled there. I
heard them strike upon the floor. And when they moved away the curtain
hung smooth and still; and there was a small stain upon the floor.

I said to God, "Why do they not wash it out?"

God said, "They cannot."

And they took small stones and put them down along the edge of the curtain