The old man took it, smelt it and adjusted his glasses for a critical examination.
"It ain't alum," he announced.
"No. I think not."
"An' it ain't glass."
"Probably not."
"Where did yer get it?"
"I found it lying on the pavement."
O'Brien scratched his head. "'Tis a quare-looking objec', anyhow. What good is it?"
"I cannot tell you. I thought that possibly it might have some value."
"What! A scrap of white shtone like that. Arrah, what's come over ye?"