Jean—Come there? What for? What silly questions! Why, this is an opal, and it is the nature of opals to have these colors in them and to dart about in this way.
Angelica—And are these beautiful colors to be seen only in the opal?
Jean—Of course, where else should one see them? Did you ever see them anywhere else, child?
Angelica—No, I never did, but I thought perhaps you might, since you have traveled so far, so far beyond the Great Cloaca Branch and the Branch of Blind Alleys and even beyond the Great Cross. (She holds the opal in the light and turns and turns it.) It seems to me that I dimly perceive other dartings than these you have named, although perhaps I am mistaken. But it is very beautiful and I love it. (A pause.) Well, well, it is all a mystery, I see I must have a new pair of eyes or a new sense of some kind to know all about this wonderful thing you call color. (Brightening) But I know I shall have them some day, else why did I get the opal and how was it that I found the shooting, pain-like rays in my opal? Jean, if I had made the world, I would have made it all opals! I wish I could make a world! O, but everything should be beautiful if I could make life!
Jean—(Patronizingly and coaxingly) Make life? What do you mean by that?
Angelica—Why, make life, make things and people! Oh, if I could but make things and people!
Jean—I don’t see what you could do with them when you made them.
Angelica—Oh, I would have them live and laugh and have lights, lights, all they wanted of lights!
Jean—But what for?
Angelica—Oh, because I love people and I love lights. I could never have too many lights. Oh, how I love them! When I wake up from a long sleep and see that mother has set the lamp a-burning I could shout for joy. Then if I had lights enough, I know I would not have to bring my opal out to the bridge to make it throw forth all its dartings. If I could make a world, I would have things very different from this.