Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue.
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