CHAPTER XI. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. "My worst fears are realized. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. "These islands that come out of nowhere, like transparent amethyst, that deepen to sapphire, and then become thickly green! And always the white coral sand rimming them—emeralds set in pearls!" "'A thing of beauty is a joy forever!'" quoted McClintock.
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