Explore "The Bridal Wreath" by Sigrid Undset on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Aye," said Ragnfrid, feeling with her hand the lukewarm brew in the vats, "methinks 'tis cool enough now to mix in the barm."
Kristin had been sitting in the brew-house doorway spinning, while she waited for the brew to cool. She laid down the spindle on the threshold, unwrapped the rug from the pail of risen yeast, and began measuring out.