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 threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. " Ruth laughed. “But about last night. “For instance?” She smiled. 144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. Mr. He continued to do this for the rest of the evening intermittently, in and out, among other topics. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it.
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