A white dove dropped immediately on the jelly, stabbing it with its beak.
It made a squelching, sucking sound, and fell off.

Then I heard the voice of a woman talking with Mara, and I knew the voice.
"I fear she is dead!" said Mara.
"I will send and find her," answered the mother.

"But why, Mara, shouldst thou at all fear for her or for any one?
Death cannot hurt her who dies doing the work given her to do." "I shall miss her sorely; she is good and wise.

Yet I would not have her live beyond her hour!" "She has gone down with the wicked; she will rise with the righteous.

We shall see her again ere very long." "Mother," I said, although I did not see her, "we come to you many, but most of us are Little Ones.