“Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. 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. " "An excellent maxim!" replied his wife, approvingly; "the best I ever heard you utter.
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