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. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. But if you do not leave this room I must. " "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow. Be kind to her. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt.
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