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. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers.
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