Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. "Steady, old top! What are you going to do?" "The damned scoundrel!" "I told you that child was opal. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. Joan told me it was hung somewhere in the house, only I couldn’t remember where after all this time.
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