The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. 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. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases.
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