He touched its glistening grains. “I think that Ray
Was right,” he murmured. “This was surely made
Under the sea; sifted and drifted down
From vanished hills and spread in level beds,
Under deep waters; compressed by the sea’s weight;
Upheaved again by fire; and now, once more,
Wears down by way of the rain and brook and river,
Back to the sea; but all by roads of law.”
Then, looking round him furtively, to make sure
No one was near, he dropped upon his knees.