Drummond patted him on the shoulder. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself.
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