" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. "Because she's a fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. The man lingered. "If you get out o' that cage, I'll forgive you. It slid off flimsily. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. The expression was wholly different. "My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a job. Still, I am curious.
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