Explore "The Opal Serpent" by Fergus Hume on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Oh, Debby," wept Sylvia, "he will die -- he will die."
"Not he, my precious pet," said the handmaiden, fondling the girl's soft hands within her own hard ones. "Them sort of young men have as many lives as tom cats. Bless you, my flower, he'll be up and ready, waiting at the altar, before the fashions change -- and that's quick enough," added Deborah, rubbing her snub nose. "For they're allays an-altering and a-turning and a-changing of 'em."