Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. “I am too much in earnest,” he answered, “to be able to take this matter lightly. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald.
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