There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. 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. I followed you home on the train. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. "I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot.
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