He had now come to the point where he ceased to see the photographs or the green stones.
The movements of his hands were almost automatic.

And in this abstract manner he came to the last photograph.

He built a necklace and even ventured an earring.
It was a glorious face--black eyes that followed you; full lipped; every indication of fire and genius.

It must be understood that he rarely saw the photographs when he played this game.

It wasn't an amusing pastime, a mental relaxation.