one word [strung]

(ref: here)

The buildings, exactly ten feet apart, were wide enough for any number of children.
Thirty feet up, bits of twine and torn-apart bedsheets served as closelines, drawn between facing windows.

The maidens took turns sharing the line.

The first week, Mary's linens, socks, and shirts.
The second week, Margaret's doilies, craft-projects, pants, and perhaps an unsightly undergarment.
The third week, Mary would lay pillow case, glove, and carpet.
Margaret would follow with quilt, curtain, and her new sofa cover.

A story of new clothing, old stories, and opportunities to gently gossip about the neighbors provided Mary an outlet.

But Margaret would always hang her clothes, never volunteering new information.

One day, the beginning of a second week, no doilies appeared on the line.
In addition, no pants, skirts, or other unsightly garments appeared.
The next day, pants continued to lack appearance.

Concerned, Mary attached a note to the line; working its way toward her neighbor's window, Mary attempted to seek out Margaret.
The window remained open; the note remained tied.

Letting the note complete it's full circuit, Mary continued pulling the rope.

Ten minutes later, the hint of some kind of dark dye near the bottom of the note drew Mary's attention.

And the phone brought questions. And an answer.