‘Well, that depends. 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. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. " "I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other, sternly. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. So he resolved to try another tack. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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