Moira

A roll of luxury wrapping paper fell out of the bag of a statuesque lady with short grey hair as she was walking purposefully down a busy high street.  I chased after her with the roll in my hand.  She thanked me for my good deed.  I admitted my ulterior motive.  Her neck craned away from me.  'A maiden name?'.  I corrected her mistake.  'Moira', she replied, her eyes held in suspicion.  'Is that from Australia?' I asked.  I had detected an accent.  'No.  Zimbabwe', she replied, 'the black hole'.  I wasn't sure what she meant by this so I let her go.