“Not a bit. 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. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. Since she was only seventeen when she had them, she didn’t deal with it very well. ” She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly. He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference.
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