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. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. Every article in the trunk was fully known to her, through a recounting of the list by the doctor. ” “It’s very good to be alive.
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