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. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. It is just how things happen to be. “What did it matter?” she cried. ” The note of his own voice exasperated him. "Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account.
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