” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. 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. " Drama. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses.
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